


BAD APPLE (Hiatus)

by Eliana_debrey



Series: RED HOOD RISING [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: (slade is too), Alfred Pennyworth is an angel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent (well he tries), Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick is soft, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason is a little shit, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roy Harper is Arsenal, Scars, They swear like sailors, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Unreliable Narrator, and he is a horny bastard, hint of eating disorder, i like to make them cry (especially Jason), it's not gruesome but still it's a fight, jason has trouble with eating, roman is here, so they kinda fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliana_debrey/pseuds/Eliana_debrey
Summary: “Hello, Wilson. You don’t seem to know me. Allow me to introduce myself: I’m the bastard who fucked you up tonight.”It takes one favor to change his life and Jason doesn't know that yet.Taking a bit of break on this one will come back in 2021 probably during summer see you all <3
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall & Bizarro (DCU) & Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Roman Sionis & Jason Todd, Roy Harper & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: RED HOOD RISING [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693081
Comments: 59
Kudos: 247





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> So this is actually the prologue of this fic. I intend it to be a two parts series with a dozen chapters each. In my universe, Jason has been around for a year or so and he plans to change Gotham. His relationships with the BatFamily is way better than in the comics (they missed him a lot). They are all trying to be better at the family thing. I want Bruce to be a better father for his sons. I don't know a lot about some characters (Stephanie, Cassandra, and Duke) but they will appear at some point. As for the Bullock I see, he is more like the one from the TV series (a bit dry and dirty but he is trying to be a good man). So yeah that's probably it. Thanks for reading this and enjoy the prologue!  
> (oh and I'm not actually a native English speaker, I'm French and it's a bit stressful to write in English but I hope you'll like it!)

**PROLOGUE**

James Gordon sat next to his partner, Harvey was trying to put his bulletproof vest on. He was struggling with the velcro on his side, Jim laughed at him silently and pushed Harvey’s hands. He untangled the velcro fastener and Harvey grumbled a thank. The truck bumped along the tracks: the harbor roads were not in a good state and the officers jolted at each pothole. The truck stopped and Harvey Bullock grunted: “Can’t believe we’re going to do this. You know he is going to kill us right?”

“Come on Harvey, if we don’t have a death-threat once or twice, are we even doing our job?”

“If we survive this, you owe me lunch,” Harvey said pointing a finger at Gordon.

“I’ll even cook for you,” Gordon smiled behind his helmet.

“Are you threatening me, James? Got enough of deadly dangers in my life to add your cooking,” Harvey bit back putting his helmet on.

“You don’t know what you're missing.”

“Trust me I do. I think I’ll pass on the night bend in half over my toilets seat.”

“Classy.”

“Fuck off.”

The detectives stepped out of the truck followed by other members of the Gotham Police. Everybody was in place. The night was calm, a bit humid because of the day rain. The first two groups left the protection of the trucks and slipped in one of the warehouses, only the splish splosh of their shoes disturbing the silence. James followed with Harvey and gave some directions. Tonight they were spoiling Black Mask fun. The mobster was receiving three containers full of weapons and three others of drugs. He was getting cocky and Gordon had been waiting for an opportunity. Mask never dared to order that much for one delivery. They were going to inflict a huge blast to his market.

Gordon waited until the last container was set down and he gave the command. All the officers went ahead and trapped the underlings. Gordon took the megaphone that Harvey brought with them and commanded every criminal to stand down and drop their weapon. Some of them tried to leave and others shot police officers.  
In the end, the operation was a huge success. Only a few henchmen managed to escape and the shipment was successfully retrieved.

Harvey sat next to him on a bench. He flipped a cigarette between his fingers and offered one to his colleague. Harvey heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. James put his elbows on his thigh and his face fell forward: “So, this went well,” said Harvey blowing some smoke.

“You could say that.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“Enlighten me, Harvey, what does that mean?”

“We are going to get kill by the end of the week,” Harvey turned his head and looked at the slumped figure of his friend. “I just hope he’s not gonna hire Deathstroke. This bastard always finishes a contract.”

“You might have jinxed us.”

“Fucking hell,” and Harvey smashed his cigarette on the ground.

Ms. Li saw Roman Sionis throwing his phone through his office, she dodged it skillfully and eyed her boss. He was so going to kill her one day.  
She waited until he calmed down and finally dared to ask what happened: “The fucking cops are getting out of hand. They seem to forget who is the boss here,” he spat viciously.

“Do you want us to send someone to ransack the precinct?”

“Oh no, we are going to send a message. One they are not going to forget. I want Gordon and Bullock dead, I don’t care how much it costs, I want the best and when I say the best, I say the best. Understood?”

“Understood…” she hesitated, maybe he wanted someone in particular. “Do you have a name in mind?” secretary Li asked.

“I want Deathstroke,” Sionis grinned.

Ms.Li watched him and sighed “sadistic bastard” was her only thought.


	2. Drag me to death, like a lit cigarette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wolfish smile stretched Jason's lips. Time to have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> First thing first, I wanted to thank you for the response to the prologue, didn't think I'd have so much as a kudo on this, it made me happy!  
> Then a few things, I wrote this chapter and will probably write this fic listening to the Birds of Prey soundtrack and this chapter was written with “Joke's on you” in mind (the chapter's name comes from the song). Another thing before you start reading “mon loup” is french and it's a nickname we give to children, it literally means “my wolf” but it's cute and sweet when your mom/dad/granny/grandpa calls you that. Another French word in the text is “mamie” it means “grandma”!  
> I hope you have as much reading as I had writing! Thank you very much, have a nice day!

** RED HOOD RISING: **

** BAD APPLE **

** CHAPITRE 1: **

Jason Todd was about to wrap his last job when he heard the comms switching on and the soft voice of Barbara informing him that Dick wanted to talk to him. Jason rose from his crouching position and grabbed the jerrycan on the ground at the same time. He waited a moment and finally told Barbara to put his brother through. Dick was not in Gotham at the moment, hell, he wasn’t even in the US why did he want to talk to him?

Jason walked around the warehouse and spilled whatever was in the jerrycan. He went back to the center of the building, took another drum and spilled it around the room. For the fun of it and just to see them piss themselves, he poured some on the gangsters’ faces. One of them whimpered and Jason had to refrain from chuckling. The boy was around fifteen and working for Black Mask already, Red Hood was going to scare him a bit.

Finally, Dick’s voice rang in his ears like he was in a fucking cathedral: “Hey Ja…”

“Nightwing,” Jason warned.

“Sorry, yeah.”

Jason waited and sighed. If Dick wanted to talk he would talk. Jason’s night was almost over, he could wait ‘till fucking Nightwing dared to open his mouth. At some point, Red Hood got bored and kicked one of the two remaining barrels. The three men tied up at his feet started to cry for help. Jason almost forgot that Dick was here until the man cleared his throat, he heard the deep breath his brother took in: “We need your help with something,” he mumbled.

Jason, not feeling particularly charitable tonight, considered making his brother repeat himself, but he decided against it. Jason was an asshole but Dick asking for some help was unusual: “Are you alright?” the younger man checked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just that I don’t like what I’m going to ask you.”

“Because it’s me you’re asking? Or because it’s something you don’t want me to do?”

It was awkward, to say the least. Dick usually was all talk and no silence. Nightwing was a talker and a good one: whatever stole his voice was bad.

“The later. It’s dangerous, and if you succeed you could become a target. I don’t like that. I know you don’t care about this but still…I don’t want you to get hurt Red,” Dick whispered.

“Nightwing, it’s fine. I mean I don’t mind that you worry. It’s nice, even,” Jason answered, relieved that Dick was the only one to hear the embarrassing confession. He was happy he got his helmet on, because of the violent blush he felt creeping up his face.

A few minutes passed and Jason grabbed the rope that kept the three criminals together. He dragged them out of the warehouse as well as the last jerrycan, spilling as much liquid as possible on the way. Jason stood next to the three and finally decided to sever the bond. He caught the youngster before he could leave, while the others scrammed without looking back. Jason listened a few seconds to see if Dick was going to talk any time soon: he did not. Jason gave a piece of paper to the young man: “Stop working for Sionis and go there. We don’t want any more dead teenager, do we?”

The boy's eyes widened, he ripped the paper off of Jason's hand and ran for his dear life. Jason smiled and got back to Dick.

“So boy wonder, are you going to spill the beans?”

“Sorry, I thought you were busy.”

“I was. I’m not anymore.”

“It’s Gordon and Bullock. They are in it, and deep.”

Jason whistled. He took off his helmet put it on the bike he had for the night. The younger man grabbed his cigarettes from his jacket and lit one. The cool air was welcome on his face and neck.

“What happened?” he asked at some point.

“They hit Black Mask. They seized the biggest arrival he’s ever had.”

“I suppose he is pissed off,” Jason bit back a smile.

“You don’t say. He hired Deathstroke to take them out.”

“Sick fuck,” Jason muttered grimacing.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Wilson since he tried some stuff with Titan. And I would do it but…”

“But you’re out of Gotham, just like approximately the rest of you.”

“Us,” Dick corrected immediately.

“Yeah, if that helps you sleep at night. I’ll talk to the ones who stayed and establish something. Don’t worry I’ll keep him off.”

“I just need you to hold him off until we get there. I talked to everybody and they’ll be back in two days max. I’ll be there sooner, I promise. We’ll be there on time.”

Jason flinched at the last words. He didn’t like people promising stuff they had no control over, especially when they promised to be on time. He shook it off: “Well, wouldn’t be the first time I have to hold the castle.”

“Jas…”

“Nightwing,” Jason chastised.

“Sorry. Just please don’t engage. If you see him: scram. He is skilled, he never fought you but he is used to us.”

“I can’t promise anything. It’s Gordon and Bullock’s safety before mine, remember? Plus I think I can handle one old enhanced mercenary from time to time,” Jason smiled blowing some of the smoke out of his lungs.

“Ja…Hood, please don’t be reckless. Wilson is ruthless.”

“Copy that. I won’t underestimate the big bad wolf.”

“I’ll be in Gotham as soon as I can. I swear.”

“Alright, I get it. Don’t worry I still got Robin with me, I’ll throw him to Wilson and run for my life,” Jason laughed and he heard a small chuckle on the other side of the line.

“Take care. And please don’t die.”

“You know me, I’m a tough bastard to kill.”

“Yeah, so is Wilson…”

“Good night, I’ll come back to you at some point,” Jason cut and ended the call.

Jason closed his eyes and just bend his head backward, he got to feel the cold wind of Gotham harbor on his almost bare face: nice. He took one last drag of his cigarette and smiled. Deathstroke then. Could be his last tango with death if he didn’t play it carefully. But who was he to turn down a challenge?

Jason flicked his cigarette to the ground. He watched the fire running towards the warehouse, the whoosh of the explosion whipped the curls around his face. A small but satisfied smile grew on his lips.

Black Mask’s warehouses burning were always his favorite sight.

The cave was silent. Barbara stopped typing the moment he stepped off his bike. Damian sat above them, on one of the platforms up the screens, his legs were dangling past the barrier and the kid was munching on a sandwich probably made by Alfred. The old man walked towards Jason, he gave him a plate with two sandwiches and something akin to a smile, Jason bit his lips and tried not to smile too much. Maybe Alfred knew the boy a little more than he let on.

Jason stepped to Barbara and kissed her forehead, she smiled softly and turned back to the computer: “I’ll send you the files we have on Deathstroke and the videos so you can assess his fighting skills. Luckily this folder is one of the thickest, thanks to Dick.”

“Does he have a pattern or something that he does often?” Jason asked putting his helmet on the table next to them.

“Yeah Todd, he kills people,” Damian mocked. Jason eyed him and decided to ignore the little monster.

“He uses his sword, probably his go-to weapon. But he is efficient with a gun, and he has a brain,” Barbara kept going.

“Alright… He is a mercenary right? We could…”

“Yeah, and before you ask I already tried to buy him. I think it pissed him off,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Of you course it would,” Jason sighed. His eyes flickered to the screens as he started to pay attention to some of the videos playing. “Who his the guy with him?”

“William Randolph Wintergreen, associate or assistant. He is the one dealing with the money and the contracts most of the time.”

Jason leaned against the table and just ate his sandwiches: avocado and salmon, honestly Alfred was spoiling him. The young man watched his little brother playing with his phone. Damian felt the stare and showed him the bird. Jason scoffed. He wiped his hand on his pants and took Barabara’s coffee cup. He saw her smiling on the side: “So Damian, not going to bed early tonight, we need to make up some strategy.”

“You want my intel?” the boy asked, surprised.

“That’s what I said. What? Scared to play with the big boys?” Jason teased.

Damian watched him and raised slowly from his perch, he jumped and landed softly next to his big brother. Jason ruffled his hair without looking at him: “It’s just that father doesn’t let me, usually,” the boy finally answered.

“Do I look like Bruce?” was the only thing Jason asked.

“No but…”

“That’s what I thought. I don’t want you near Deathstroke. You might, only if it’s a necessity, you might engage Wintergreen but be careful.”

“I think I can handle Deathstroke,” Damian puffed.

The boy watched his brother crouching. Jason smiled softly: “I don’t want you near any sword. Especially one that belongs to a heavily trained super-soldier. Is that understood?”

“If you think that what happened with my clone is going to make me quiver…”

“Kid, you died. Heretic pierced you and you died. It’s a fact, cold hard fact. I want you with me on this and I want any idea you might have. But the minute you are endangered you are out. Dick doesn’t even want me to engage Deathstroke, what do you think that means?” Jason was serious, he didn’t want to see another small lifeless body. Specifically his younger brother.

“He is dangerous,” Damian answered. The boy tried not to think too much about the worry he could read in Jason’s eyes. His big brother blinked and the concern disappeared. The man rose.

“Good. Bab’s I think I’ll need you when I’ll fight him.”

“I thought you couldn’t engage the target?” Damian said accusingly.

“Deathstroke isn’t going to give me much of a choice. I’ll just return the courtesy… Bab’s do you think you can find his bank account and leave them dry?”

Damian and Barbara gave him a surprised look. Jason smiled and took the tablet next to Barbara. He scrolled through Deathstroke file carefully. Damian smiled, working with Todd was always different than working with his father.

“You really want to do him dirty,” the redhead smiled.

“I want you to do that when we’ll fight. Wintergreen is probably going to tell him. And you know how mercenaries are. Deathstroke is used to the honorable Bats unable to play dirty. I’ll give him dirty.”

They spend most of the night trying to set up something. Damian was supposed to retrieve Gordon and Bullock after work while Jason had to give them some time. He was then supposed to catch up with them in town. If anything happened during this time Damian had to scram with Gordon and Bullock, and Jason would go ahead and hold Deathstroke until Dick arrived. It wasn’t a strategy but it was probably the best they could come up within a night.

Jason left the manor at dawn after a quick nap. He said goodbye to Alfred and a sleepy Damian quickly. Then he headed to the cave. Barbara probably didn’t sleep to find a breach in Deathstroke bank accounts.

He was right, she was still in front of the computer with a warm cup of coffee. Jason put his hands on her shoulders. She sighed and he swore he heard something akin to a sob: “Bab’s you should sleep. This isn’t good for you.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m some china doll, Jason. I don’t need a reminder that I can’t go and help you on the field,” she bit and Jason winced. He stepped back when she turned to him.

“Bab’s it’s your father we are talking about. You are already emotionally involved, I sure as hell don’t need you exhausted. I just want you to eat and sleep for a few hours. You’re probably the most important part of what we are trying to pull off. Right now I want you at your top, to hack the motherfucker and suck him dry. You can only do that with some sleep and a stomach full of food, not coffee.”

There was a silence in the cave and Jason locked eyes with his friend. Hers were red, probably because of the screens, he didn’t want to think too much about it: Jason didn’t do well with comforting; he wasn’t Dick. Jason was towering her but he never felt smaller. She considered him and took a deep breath: “You sounded a bit like Bruce,” that was a low blow she knew it. Jason took a step back.

“Please Bab’s, you know he couldn’t pull off the leather jacket as I do,” that made her smile but her face darkened the moment after.

“I understand Jason. It’s just… It’s my dad. I only have him. It’s frustrating.”

“No, I get it. You don’t want to be in the very private club of the batman’s sidekicks that are orphans. Well, your loss Barbara because we have a get together each month with lots of food and good movies.”

“Aw, shit. Maybe I’ll let Wilson kill my dad then.”

“What wouldn’t you do for free food,” Jason teased.

The man took a helmet —a normal one: Barbara had some update to do on the red— and turned his back to his sister. He walked to his bike and eyed the batmobile. Damian was supposed to bring the two officers in a safe place with it. They almost fought when Jason asked the boy if he could reach the brakes. The young man jumped on his bike and waved: “I’ll protect your dad, Babs, and you protect my ass.”

“Copy that.”

Gotham was pretty under the first ray of sunlight. The city was still asleep when he drove in. He liked it. Watching everybody rousing and him speeding through the town. Yeah, Gotham was home.

Few merchants were opening their stores and the smell of fresh bread stopped him. He stepped off his vehicle and walked in the bakery. One day he wouldn’t be able to fit in his pants and it was all Charlotte’s fault. The old woman was French, born and bred —pun intended. She left her native Normandy, came to Gotham and stayed; fell in love with the city she said. Jason wasn’t going to complain, she was probably the best baker of the whole city and it happened that she always had a little something for him. Charlotte smiled and dropped some croissants and bread in front of him, he tried to pay but she refused: “Mon loup, you’re so skinny I can’t make you pay for this.”

“Mamie Lottie, are you sure you don’t want to change your glasses? Yours seems broken,” she flipped him off and he laughed.

“I heard about a firework tonight. Word on the street is that Black Mask is going to kill whoever did this.”

“Well, Black Mask should probably be more careful with his warehouses. These things are highly inflammable.”

“That’s what I told them,” she grinned.

He finally made it to his apartment slash safe-house and honestly, it felt like a decade since he came home. He missed his bed and really he would have given anything for a day off. He sighed: “Yeah, keep dreaming dickhead.”

Jason took a shower and changed his clothes, he smelled like gasoline and even if no-one mentioned it, he knew they recognized the odor. The hot water ran down his back, he groaned, yeah Jason was sure that hot showers were a divine invention. He grabbed his unscented soap and scrubbed his body efficiently, washed his hair and massaged his scalp gently. The tap squeaked as he stopped the water. He dried his body, being extra careful around the bruises he collected last night, and then took care of his black and white hair. Finally, he brushed his teeth. He felt refreshed now that he was clean.

Jason ate one of the croissants and made a cheese and ham sandwich, packed a bag with his tablet, a battery, the sandwich, water, and his domino. Jason was a good student and paid attention during stakeout 101. His bag once secured on his shoulders, he slipped out of his apartment through the fire exit, guns on his thighs and sword in the back. Damian was supposed to bring the rest of his gear tonight but Jason didn’t know if Deathstroke would wait till dusk. He hoped he would.

Jason headed to the police precinct and stayed alert. He watched the windows and the people coming and leaving the building. Deathstroke was a hunter, plus he was supposed to bring Gordon and Bullock’s heads to Black Mask. The mercenary would have to step in the precinct if he wanted to take his prizes.

It was almost noon when Jason’s stomach rumbled. Keeping an eye on the street he started to eat quickly but couldn’t finish the entire sandwich. Then he took the tablet and studied Deathstroke videos. The man was good, really good. Probably better than Jason, but hey, he wasn’t some enhanced soldier. If Deathstroke had been searching for some trainee Jason would have probably asked him some lessons. But they were not playing and the older male was probably going to kill whoever stood between him and his bounty tonight.

Only after watching one last time the videos, Jason established a plan of action and headed to the GCPD building’s roof. He knew how Deathstroke moved and if he was right the man would fall into his little traps. And it would be even more effective if Bab’s managed to piss him off.

The sky was turning pink and a glance at his watch told Jason it was his cue. He put his domino on and grabbed his bag. Jason stepped off the roof and headed to the back door of the precinct. He knocked, Harvey Bullock opened the door: “Pizza delivery!”

“Fuck off Hood. Right now is not the time.”

“Waiting for your Bat bodyguard, perhaps?” Jason asked and Bullock turned back to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re the one they sent?”

“You’re going to hurt my feelings Harvey,” Jason walked in the building, past Harvey. He patted the detective’s shoulder. 

“I told you, Gordon, we are going to get killed.”

“Come on Harvey, you might like me better than the others,” Jason told him.

“Yeah, sure. I spend the entire day trying to clean your mess at the harbor. I’m sure you pissed off Mask more than us.”

“A boy gotta have his fun, detective.”

Jason smiled, he liked Bullock. The man helped him a few times when he was still in the streets. And Jason was pretty sure that Bullock knew who he was. They had some familiarity Bullock didn’t share with the others.

Gordon on the other knew about his real identity. The detective was eyeing the two bickering. He sighed and checked his gun, probably for the hundredth time today: having Deathstroke on your ass did that to you.

Gordon walked towards Jason and put a hand on his shoulder. Red Hood stilled and turned to the man. The detective could see the provocative smile: “I don’t do last words, Gordon, so you gotta survive tonight.”

“I’ll try,” the older man smiled.

Jason sat on Gordon’s desk. He had dropped his bag in a corner of the office. He’d get it back next time. The first thing he did when he went into the room was to close the curtain and turn the heat up. Deathstroke used special googles sometimes, and Jason wasn’t going to get killed because he made a stupid mistake. They heard the roar of a car outside, Jason knew Damian was here. He waited a few minutes and heard a small knock on the door: “Password” he yelled.

“How old are you Hood?”

“Damian, it really is you.”

The kid stepped in and dropped a beige duffle bag in front of Jason. The man was happy to see his helmet all shiny and put it on. He talked a bit with Barbara, asking how things were going. She was almost in, and that brought a smile to his lips. Jason took some of the knives that were in the bag and the utility belt Alfred took the time to refill. Finally, Jason was ready to face Deathstroke or at least give him a run for his money —quite literally.

First, the boy threw a smoke bomb in the precinct and his hunch was correct. He saw the small laser he was expecting moving through the building: searching. Jason turned to Damian. The boy had his staff ready and behind him, the detectives’ weapons were out. They left the office and avoided the laser as much as possible. Jason knew Wilson was playing with them. He wouldn’t shoot, not like this, not now. The videos were clear: Wilson liked close range fights.

Jason went for the roof to handle the sniper, and Damian to the backdoor to get in the car. Jason watched his surroundings and spotted Wintergreen with the googles in his mask. He could take him out easily, he had a clear shot right between the man's eyes… He aimed for the shoulder, shattered the collarbone and made Wintergreen ineffective. He smiled under his helmet: he hadn’t lost his touch and that was nice to know.

Jason walked to the fire exit and felt it before it happened. He cried for the others to cover. Gordon had the time to get in the car just like Damian. However, Bullock wasn’t so lucky. The grenade dropped on the ground and Harvey had just enough time to close the door to put some protection between him and the explosion.

The loud boom made Jason wince: he hated when he wasn’t the one using bombs. He went back into the building and ran to Bullock. The man was a bit shaken but nothing too important. Jason grabbed him and pulled him to the staircase. He heard his comms switching on: “Hood what happened?” Barbara asked, her voice was strained.

“Grenade. I want Robin out and now.”

“What? That wasn’t the plan Hood,” Damian screeched in his ears.

“It’s too dangerous. You want me to spell it? I don’t want you dead!”

That calmed everyone. Jason took a deep breath and assessed his situation. He had someone to protect and was alone against super-soldier. Gordon could be saved and Damian too. He didn’t think too much: “Oracle, I want Robin out. Take control of the car, drive it back to the cave if Robin tries to resist.”

“Hood you can’t do that!” Damian roared.

“You’ll do as I say. If you’re hurt B is going to tear me a new one. So you leave and I wait for the others. You don’t come back and if you do I’ll break both of your legs.”

“That’s not nice Red,” a deep voice chuckled in his comms. Of course, Deathstroke would have found a way to hack them. Actually, Jason was counting on it. The man was confident: good, it made him careless.

“Oracle?”

“I’m in,” and how thrilling it was to see Deathstroke jump into their trap.

Barbara needed one thing and only one: Deathstroke’s digital print. She got into his computer in no time. After that, draining his accounts was child play. Jason smiled and secured his grip on his gun. He felt Harvey coming back from his daze. Things were looking up: “So Wilson, how is it to go from riches to rags?”

“What are you…” Wilson paused, probably to talk to the poor Wintergreen still in shock due to the bullet. “Son of a bitch,” was the only but resentful answer.

“Hello, Wilson. You don’t seem to know me. Allow me to introduce myself: I’m the bastard that fucked you up tonight,” Jason taunted.

Jason didn’t hear anything. Wilson was probably reevaluating the situation. And next thing Jason knew, a huge blast broke down the precinct heavy doors. Yeah, he almost forgot about the super-soldier thingy. He pushed Harvey up the stairs. Jason needed the high ground: he didn’t want to fight in such a small place and he had presents for the hitman.

He closed the door behind them fully aware that it wouldn’t hold Deathstroke but he needed the image. They took a deep breath and Jason gestured for them to take cover. They heard the roof door exploding too. Jason winced once again. He hoped Wilson didn’t know about his past because he would use that weakness mercilessly. They heard the first trap.

A wolfish smile stretched Jason's lips. Time to have some fun.


	3. If I ever get knocked, I ain't never gon' give up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, destiny always had a way to fuck with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Thank you so much for the kudos and the comments it makes me so so happy!! I'm glad people enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you'll like this one too!  
> I wrote this one listening to BoP soundtrack, especially Danger from Juceee Froot! It gave me energy and put me into the mood to finish writing it!  
> Thank you again!

**RED HOOD RISING:**  
**BAD APPLE**

**CHAPITRE 2:**

Slade had to give it to the kid: he was good. It took a literal two minutes for Wilson to get his shits together and calm down. He knew about Red Hood, studied his ways. Slade knew Hood was smart and had proper training: one rather different from the Bats —and oddly close to the All-Caste’s.  
He walked on the roof and saw the first trap; bastard. Hood was ready for the fight on the roof and Slade had followed straight where he wanted, maybe Slade wasn’t as calm as he believed he was.  
He heard the trap click and the first bomb exploded. Slade jumped on his right and another grenade was waiting for him. He gritted his teeth and turn in the air, landed on his hands and catapulted his body in another jump. He landed on his knees with a grunt. Red Hood was waiting for him and shot. Slade went for the cover and breathed slowly, Red Hood seamed to read his movements and the mercenary didn't like it. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who did his homework.  
Time to take the lead.

Slade saw the light bomb rolling next to him, it set off and blinded him. It took ten seconds to Slade to see again, thanks to the serum in his veins. He watched as Red Hood jumped from the roof with his target and the vigilante dared to give him the finger. Slade smiled: brat.

Jason grabbed Harvey and shot his line to the next building. The detective went stiff and gripped Jason’s shoulder. Jason was having fun, so far what he saw in Deathstroke’s videos had paid off. He turned his head, saw the super-soldier and against better judgment he raised his middle finger. Jason jumped and landed both of them quickly. They ran as fast as possible trying to put some distance with the mercenary. Slade would want a hands to hands and Jason wasn’t too keen on giving him that. Of course, destiny always had a way to fuck with you.

Once again Jason instinct told him something was off. He jumped on his left and pushed Bullock down. They turned their heads and saw the long knife stuck in the ground just where Harvey had been. They looked in the other direction and saw Wilson coming full speed for them, Jason stood up and raced towards the merc. He saw the man lower his gravity center and open his arms. Okay, so he was going for a tackle, Jason wasn’t confident in his ability to take the blow, but he was ready to jump over him, and then he remembered Dick’s voice: “He is used to us.”  
At the last moment, Jason decided against jumping and slid between Wilson’s legs head first. That gave him an opportunity and he kicked Wilson’s behind his knees. The man rolled and turned during his fall. They were facing each other but Jason wasn’t on Bullock’s side anymore. He had made a mistake: idiot. Mistake that Wilson used, the mercenary spun and ran to Harvey. Cursing himself Jason did the only thing he could think of and he jumped on Slade’s back. A bold move and probably another mistake but he was desperate.  
The super-soldier caught him over his shoulders and threw the boy across the roof only stopping when he hit a chimney. The impact stole Jason’s air. He stood up quickly trying hard to catch his breath. Harvey was shooting at Wilson, the scene stole a smile from the vigilante. Jason took his sword out: he had to give some challenge to Deathstroke.

Slade noticed a glint in the night and dropped to the ground. The sword was coming for his head. He kicked Hood’s feet off the ground but the man used the momentum to jump over Slade who was still crouching. Hood was back between Slade and Bullock. The mercenary was starting to get irritated. Maybe he would be forced to kill him even if he was a Bat.

Slade gauged Hood. The position was good, the hands on the handle were confident. Slade pulled his own sword out and attacked first. The pure blunt force made the kid step back but he collected himself and was ready for the next blow. He could block and strangely Wilson was pleased. Then, Jason attacked and Slade was almost smiling. Hood was fast and efficient: he didn’t waste too much strength and was aiming for dangerous spots. But Slade had experience on his side, the mercenary blocked one attack in the air and kicked his enemy in the ribs.

Jason slid once again on the floor. He tried to breathe but the kick probably broke one or two ribs. However, it was enough, he had been able to set the bomb on Slade’s leg. Jason didn’t wait and scrammed with Harvey who had been watching the fight. They ran to the end of the roof and jumped one more time: “Oracle? Backup status?”

“We are almost here Hood. Lay low,” Bruce’s voice came.

“He is behind me,” Jason tried to say breathlessly.

“Hang on, please hang on,” Dick supplicated.

“If you had just let me stay with you, I could have helped you,” Damian spat.

“Definitely not doing this right now Robin. We’ll talk when fucking Deathstroke isn’t behind my ass.”

They landed in a street, the shock on his joints snatched a growl from the boy. Jason took the first bike he saw. Harvey sat behind him and grabbed his jacket: “Still with me old man?”

“Just fucking drive, Hood!” Harvey screamed, almost hysterical.

They entered one of the main street and Jason accelerated. He wanted to reach one of his safe houses and collect some of his gear. However, Deathstroke was a tough bastard. He was waiting for them in the middle of the street. He threw one of his knives and then shot at them. Jason heard Harvey gasp behind and glanced at the passenger. The knife had grazed his leg. It took this glance for Jason to lose control of the bike and drop to the ground. They rolled for a few meters and stopped. Jason looked at the bike and both wheels were perforated. This explained that.

Jason had just a few seconds to move and then Deathstroke’s sword pierced the ground where his head had been. He tried to move once again but Wilson’s foot slammed on his waist. They both heard a crack and Jason definitely felt it. The mercenary bent and clutched Jason’s throat. He lifted the boy and held him up, his feet were dangling over the ground.  
Slade slid one of his blade between the boy armored patch, he heard a small gasp. Jason tried his best kick the older man but the suspicious black dots were starting to appear and he could feel blood running down his side where the knife entered. He closed his eyes. His heart was pumping in his ears, the leather gloves around his neck burned his skin, and the tips of the fingers were sinking in the soft skin: crushing the windpipe.  
The world went silent, liked he was in a tunnel, and he heard it: the melody. It was haunting sounding dangerously calming, he was losing consciousness, the realization kicked him awake. He opened his eyes and blinked a few tears away. He was not going down like this. Not without a proper fight. Not again.  
Jason set off the taser of his body armor. Slade dropped him, the vigilante hit the ground harshly, his shoulder screamed when he pushed on his left arm. Slade was stunned and laid on his side. Harvey took Jason in his arms and helped him to his feet: “We need to go. He won’t stay like this forever,” the detective stated. He was right, they had to leave and find somewhere to hide, Jason wasn’t so sure he could go against Wilson one more time.

Slade saw them running away, he gritted his teeth. That was it.  
He was pissed off and even if that Red Hood was good, Slade hadn’t been playing seriously. The kid had some nice tricks and an undeniable ability to adapt to any kind of situation. But he wasn’t Batman and Slade couldn’t lose against someone who wasn’t Batman. Not now, not ever. He aimed for his target’s leg: that would slow them down. He shot and watched the man stumble on the ground with a satisfied grin. Hood turned and stood in front of the detective. Stubborn bastard. Wilson switched his earpiece on: “I’ll admit it, kid. You’re kinda good.”

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself old man,” talking stung but Jason could manage.

“Step out and let me take him,” the boy almost laughed.

“I heard bargaining was one of the five stages of grief,” Slade could hear the strain in the boy's voice.

Harvey rose from the ground and grabbed Jason’s calf: he was sitting behind the boy barely holding it. He said he was alright and could run — liar. Jason sighed and focused on Deathstroke who was still aiming at them. Things were starting to look bad. Deathstroke looked like he could keep going for another hour but Jason already felt his muscles aching. He just had to think of something.  
The loud noise registered and then the pain. The bullet tore his armor and then the flesh. It went through him so easily, cutting skin, muscles, and organs. Air left his lungs and Jason stumbled. He had been shot before, and it still hurt like a bitch. He turned to Harvey only to see that the bullet missed. Harvey’s right cheek was scratched but he remained unarmed. Jason sighed and relaxed for a bit: at least he didn’t fuck this up. His commuter switched on: “Still standing kid?”

“I had worse.”

“Step out, or next time I’ll shoot you dead,” Wilson grunted.

“Been there, done that.”

He saw the mercenary aiming once again but this time Jason had no doubt the wound would be far worse: “Red Hood we are here,” the voice resonated.

“It’s about fucking time,” Jason groaned.

Jason saw Bruce jumping in front of Slade and engaging him in a fight. Nightwing dropped next to Harvey and Jason. He grabbed Jason’s arms but the young man pushed him: “Harvey’s been shot. Take care of him, I can handle myself.” As if to prove him wrong and fuck one more time with him: Jason’s body gave out.

* * *

The sun brushed his cheeks. Jason frowned. He rose slowly from the haze. He was in a very comfortable bed and under a warm blanket: this could have been heaven. Next, he was brought back to reality full speed: the crash was rude. His body was aching even as he laid. He recalled the mission, Slade, the bullet. So he was still alive and probably in the manor.  
The door opened, Jason lifted one of his eyelids. It felt like it stole all of his energy. Alfred’s silhouette became clearer. He sat next to him, took the boy’s hand in his. Jason smiled. He felt groggy and weak but if Alfred was next to him: he could sleep a bit more.  
When he woke up, Alfred was asleep in the armchair next to the bed. Dick was trying to set a plaid over the butler. When he was finished Dick stole a glance at Jason. Their eyes met and Dick gasped silently. He kneeled next to Jason’s head: “Hey little wing, how do you feel?” Dick asked running his fingers through Jason’s hair. The younger man was too tired to pretend he didn’t like it.

“Like Deathstroke stabbed and shot me,” he muttered and saw Dick wincing: not the reaction he had been looking for.

“It’s fine, you’re safe now,” Dick whispered looking at his fingers still in Jason’s hair.

“Gordon and Bullock?”

“They are safe. Bruce fought Deathstroke while I took care of Harvey and you,” Dick smiled softly.

“How is Bab’s?”

“She is holding on pretty well. But you should worry about yourself, little brother.”

The silence was comfortable. Dick played with the strands of hair on Jason’s forehead, Alfred asleep next to them, and the safety of the manor. Jason could feel his body sinking slowly back to unconsciousness. He tried to fight it.

“How long was I out?” he closed his eyes enjoying the skin against his: it was nice. Dick’s hands were always a good kind of warm.

“Almost twenty-four hours. Alfred didn’t bulge, he said he couldn’t leave until you woke up. He didn’t want you to be alone,” Jason smiled weakly.

“Aaah, I missed this,” Dick realized Jason was probably really exhausted because he would have never said this fully awake.

“Yeah, me too little wing,” Jason felt a small kiss on his forehead. He heard Dick humming a lullaby, soft, in a foreign language —“Romani” Jason’s brain provided—, it was calming. Jason felt himself surrendering to sleep.

He woke up one more time, well-rested but still feeling like shit. His body was screaming at each movement and the worse was the bullet wound. Jason couldn’t sit as he wanted and that meant no biking until the injury was closed. But the weirder was definitely how everybody treated him like some fragile thing. Even Damian came to visit his room. They tried to act like it was nothing but Jason could feel the worry in their eyes. Heck! He did not die, not this time. He couldn’t wait to leave the manor to just rest at home and take care of his business. Red Hood couldn’t disappear too long, not now, not with Black Mask still in the picture.  
And when Jason talked about leaving the manor Alfred had objected. Strongly. Dick was also against the idea but Bruce, well, he didn’t talk. He watched Jason and sighed. Bruce agreed under one condition: Jason had to call one of them each night: “Are you even serious?” Jason asked incredulously.

“That’s my condition.”

“I’m not a fucking kid!”

“Deathstroke is still around. You kept him on his toes the entire night. Do you believe he won’t come back and seek vengeance? Plus the minute Black Mask hears it was Red Hood who stopped his hitman, he will put a bounty on your head. Do you think Deathstroke will pass the opportunity?”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Really? Because it seems to me that you have been shot and stabbed… Deathstroke didn’t know you, he didn’t know how you fought, you had the upper hand. Mind the use of the past tense. Right now, you are injured and he knows you. Trust me, you won’t be able to hold as long as you did last time.”

Jason stared at Bruce. Everyone was looking at them. Bruce’s eyes were locked to Jason’s. The boy bit his bottom lip, swallowed, and took a deep breath. If calling them was the only thing he had to do so he could go home, he could manage. He just had to call Tim when the boy came back: it would be easier to end the call quickly. He nodded and Bruce resumed eating. Damian and Dick eyed each other probably trying to communicate: “Maybe I could drop you home, Jay?” tried the big brother.

“I can take a taxi.”

“Jason…”

“I can take a taxi.”

They dropped him off. Jason sulked the entire time of the drive, Dick tried to have him talk, as for Bruce and Damian, they kept silent. Jason asked them to stop in the city. He had some grocery shopping to do: “We already know where you live, Jason,” Bruce said thinking his son didn’t want him to know his address.

“What…I…You know what? I don’t care. Just drop me in front of the mall I need to buy some stuff.”

“I can do it for you,” Dick tried.

“I had worse. Really worse. And you’re getting worried for a bullet and a stab wound?”

“It’s Slade we are worried about,” Damian answered.

“Listen, if anything dangerous happens to me I will call you. Can you please go back to ignoring me?” At this, the temperature dropped. Bruce didn’t talk, Dick looked pained and Damian was looking at the ground. Jason opened his door and left the car. He watched them until Bruce decided to leave. Jason heaved a sigh. What he did was the opposite of nice but he was too tired to care.

* * *

The spring sun was warm against his skin. His body was holding well: maybe the pit helped him to recover faster, he didn’t know. He’d rather not think about the pit anymore. Still, they were worried about nothing. Wilson didn’t know him, he didn’t even see his face: he was fine. Jason was probably going to take a day off and go back to Red Hood the next day. Showing his face around Gotham to taunt Black Mask and stuff.

Jason welcomed the sight of his apartment complex. He wanted to shower, drink a cool glass of tea, and sleep. What happened with the others took a toll on him. They would probably come at night and check on him at some point, he was ready to chase them away. Jason’s phone rang, looking at the ID he decided against ignoring it, knowing the caller to be a gigantic pain in the ass when he decided to be one (and it was his default mode): “Hey, Roy what do you want?”

“Heard you got shot,” the accusation in the tone was enough.

“Dick told you,” Jason sighed.

“No, I just have this superpower that tells me when you get shot,” the other answered drily.

“Must be useful.”

“Also heard you went back home.”

“Please not you too. I couldn’t stay at the manor.”

“Oh…And why is that? Tired of the gigantic mansion and homemade meals?”

“Ahah very funny. To give a serious answer it’s more because Bruce is a pain in the ass, and then because of the nightmares. I don’t want them to know about that.”

“So you decided to go home alone when you have the fucking Terminator on your case. Logic.”

“Look, I never said I was smart and he isn’t on my case,” Jason lied.

“Of course not, it’s not like you stopped him to get a target. Right, why would he be on your case?” Roy mocked.

“First of all, it was two targets.”

“Oh, my bad. So sorry. So it’s not like you stopped him to get his, not one but two targets.”

“Leave the sarcasm to people who can wield it, would you, Roy?”

“Fuck you.”

Jason opened the building door and called for the elevator. He heard Roy sighing on the other side and he smiled: “Oh, you were worried about me. That’s so sweet.”

“I hope you’ll get killed. I hope it will be painful.”

“Careful what you wish for, you might get it,” Jason said stepping in the elevator.

“So, you’re still up to drive Roman mad in Star City?”

“I’ll let you know when we can do that. With what happened to his cargo he will probably be more careful.”

“I always loved a challenge.”

The elevator stopped and Jason took his keys. He opened his door and the smell hit him. He stopped.

“Yeah, well when I come you could take me to the restaurant you talked about last time. We could eat the empanadas you can’t shut up about,” Jason said using their emergency word.

“Shit, Jason. What level?”

“I hope they have some extra spicy sauce.”

“I’ll call Bruce. Jason, please tell me it’s not Deathstroke.”

“Yeah, I think that the one. I’ll call you back!”

“Jay, don’t you dare hang up on m…”

Jason knelt and dug up the gun he hid in the plant pot next to his door. Bat paranoia could be useful some times. He stepped in silently, gun at eye level. No-one was inside but he could still smell Slade or at least the oil he used for his sword and the gunpowder. He had had all the time to get used to it when the man had strangled him last time. Slade had been and was probably still in his house. Jason clicked the gun safety: “Alexa play I know you’re here by I’m gonna fuck you up.”

Jason didn’t hear Deathstroke touching the ground. He felt, however, the blade on his neck. Slade pressed it to his skin, breaking it and leaving a trail for the blood to run freely from. Jason turned and Slade pushed him to a wall. He held Jason’s wrists over his head with only one of his gigantic hands. He felt Deathstroke armor against his body. They were close, too close for Jason to leave this fight unarmed: “Is this your gun, or are you happy to see me, Wilson?” he forced himself to smile.

Slade didn’t answer, he punched him in the stomach and Jason would have fallen on his knees if not for Deathstroke grip on him: “What do you think, Hood?”

“Must be your gun, having a natural hard-on at your age is probably impossible.”

The next punch was stronger and Jasons felt the wounds reopened. He sighed: Bruce was going to rip him a new one or Alfred. Deathstroke waited for Jason to recover. The older man didn’t have his mask on, a mistake. Jason spat in his eye. Wilson kept his hold on him and whipped the blood mixed to the saliva. He looked unimpressed, disappointed even. One more punch and this time Jason fell, and then a kick that made the young man bounce back on the wall. Yeah, talk about a shitty day.  
Deathstroke gripped his hair. He looked at him: “You know, you said something puzzling last time we saw each other,” for fuck say could he just kill him and get on with it.

“Did I?” Jason was breathless, he hoped the others would get there soon.

“Yeah, you said that you’d been there and done that when I said I would kill you.”

“That’s a pretty good memory you have there,” something was wrong. His face felt strange.

“And I remembered about a small bird that died years ago. Almost broke the Big Bad Bat and big brother Dickie.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason felt one of his eyelids dropping.

“Joker blew him up as far as I remember. So, how is it to be dead Jason?”

“Aw, man. Come on, what about secret identity?”

“I’m curious about what happened to you, broken little birdie?” Slade asked sinking slowly to the ground were Jason laid.

“Say…Your blade was poisoned, wasn’t it?”

“Curare,” he smiled.

“Thought you were Deathstroke and not Deadshot,” that earned him a heavy slap.

Slade smiled, he knelt next to the boy. Jason was gasping now. He couldn’t breathe and his movements were reduced: “In a few minutes, you’ll asphyxiate, boy. Do yourself a favor and don’t fight it.”  
Jason saw a dark shadow jumping on the roof next to his flat, it threw something against the window across the room and Jason smiled: “In a few seconds, you’ll get punched, old man.”

The small bomb exploded and Black Bat jumped in the apartment. She punched Deathstroke hard with all she had. The man stumbled. Cassandra was in position, she would give him a hell of a fight. Red Robin landed in the flat too. Cassandra threw herself at Slade and Tim went next to Jason. He shook him: “Jason? Jason, stay with me please.”

“’m fine”

“What happened? What did he do?”

“Curare,” was the last thing Jason managed to articulate. He saw Bruce kicking his door open and rolled his eyes. The landlord was going to kill him.

“Batman!” Tim screamed trying to get his attention.

“What happened?”

“He has been poisoned; curare it seems.”

Jason felt someone picking him up. He was against a strong waist: “Bruce” he thought. His ears were ringing, he couldn’t breathe, everything was dark. He heard the voice, soft, sweet, calming, it was singing. Jason knew the melody if only he could remember.  
He felt his back dropping against the Batmobile backseat. If the curare didn’t kill him Alfred was probably going to do it. Jason laughed but soon enough he was gasping for air: “Hush Jason, you’re safe now. Keep your oxygen.”

* * *

Jason woke up in his bed once again. Maybe he should save up some seconds next time and just stay in the bed while Deathstroke beat him to a pulp. He’d have to ask Wilson.  
This time it wasn’t Alfred sitting in the armchair but Bruce. He was holding Jason's hand and sleeping soundly. Jason moved his hand a bit startling his father awake. Bruce smiled, he let go of the young man’s hand and brushed his knuckles against Jason’s cheek: “Almost lost you there, Jaybird,” Bruce whispered.

“I’m tough to kill Bruce. Trust me, I tried,” Jason saw his father flinch. Note to self, don’t joke when you just woke up.

“I don’t want to lose you again. Not like that… Why don’t you stay? You could stay? It’s safer here,” Bruce was nervous, even if his body language didn’t give him away, Jason would have heard it.

“I can’t come back now… I need time, okay? I hurt a lot of you. Hell, Tim still flinches when I move too fast… Don’t Bruce, please don’t force this on them, you’re better than that. And you did hurt me too, I probably deserved it but still… I just need time, alright? There is nothing time won’t heal.”

Bruce was pained, his eyes always gave a lot. They stayed like this a moment, Bruce was looking for an answer: the right one. He closed his eyes and let go. He could give some time to the second oldest son and mend things with the others, Dick for example. “Baby steps,” Bruce thought.

“Okay…I get it. Just please don’t shut us down… We are trying, Jason. And we can see that you are trying too. If you could just come home once or twice a week. You can stay until you’re healed, this could be a good start?”

“I’m not sure Alfred would let me leave my bedroom after what happened,” he saw Bruce smiling.

“He is worried sick, Jason…and,” Bruce broke the eye contact. He looked around the room and sighed. “Me too. I’m worried about you. We…I love you Jaybird.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Bruce took a sharp breath in. It had been a while since he heard that. Jason had always been the only one to call him dad and he missed it. Bruce looked at his boy who was already asleep.

Jason leaned in Bruce’s hand. The older man knew he was wrong to take advantage of his son’s state to tell him everything he wanted but he needed to. He missed his son, his family.  
Bruce tried to take his hand back and Jason whined. In a heartbeat, Bruce was back eight years earlier, a young boy down with a fever trying his best not to show his weakness. A knock on the door startled him: “Everything’s alright, Master Bruce?”

“Yeah, Alfred. Thank you.”

The old man stopped at the sight and smiled. He changed the cold cloth on Jason’s forehead. Bruce played with the boy hair earning a small sigh: “It nice to have him around.”

“Yes, Alfred. It’s nice. It’s nice to have my son back.”

“Let’s all try our best when he wakes up, Master Bruce.”

Yes, he could do that. As for now, the young billionaire was going to enjoy the peaceful seconds away from the world, away from Gotham, away from Batman. Next to his son.


	4. Got so much to lose Got so much to prove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never had a pajama party,” Jason mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> First of all, thank you so much for all the comments and the kudos, you can't even imagine how excited I am when I see a new one!! I hope you had a great week and that you will like this chapter. As a matter of fact, I had a lot of trouble coming up with this one, I erased the one I had prepared last week and even if it was difficult I can only say that I like this one better! I wrote it listening to Cage The Elephant, especially Trouble (the title comes from that song)!  
> I changed a bit of the tags, the chapter talks about Jason's perception of his body (and it's no great and some trouble he has with taking care of himself, so please check them and be careful of what you can or cannot deal with)  
> And one last thing, I might not be able to write chapter four next week (I work, I've my finals, and I have some stuff to file to be able to do get a master degree, and let me tell you it's not fun...) So don't be surprised if I come back only in a few weeks!  
> I hope you'll like this chapter!

RED HOOD RISING:

BAD APPLE

CHAPITRE 3:

“Slade is still outside, waiting for you!”

“I don’t give a single fuck, Dick.”

“Do you even have a plan?”

“I…uh”

“I knew it! Why don’t you take it slow? Why don’t you stay here and make a new one? And you need to heal! You have been shot two weeks ago.”

“As if Bruce doesn’t go right back to patrolling even if he’s been shot!”

“I don’t give a fuck about Bruce, Jason!” Dick finally snapped after an hour of their whispered argument.

Jason stared at his big brother. The man stood in front of the door, arms wide open, disheveled, and a wild expression on his face. Dick had appointed himself as Jason’s nurse, he went as far as to stay in the manor, literally in the bedroom next to Jason’s so he could watch over him. And tonight, after two weeks of him babying Jason, he caught his baby brother trying to sneak out. Dick was confused, everything was going well, Jason only fought once with Bruce since he came back and it was over nothing. Jason even spent time with his brothers and he looked like he enjoyed it! And here they were, whispering as loud as they could to stay discreet.

Dick was aware that Jason didn’t ask for help. He didn’t want to repay or need anyone. His brother was as stubborn as their adoptive father, it made Dick smile usually but this time it was getting on his nerves, and Dick was a patient man. Jason had a way of getting under his skin that no-one else had.

So he said it. He had screamed-whispered and said something he didn’t mean to say. Not that he didn’t mean it, it was one of these thoughts that better remain in a dark corner of his mind, one he’ll pummel himself for later. Jason was speechless and that gave enough time to Dick to snatch the bag that his little brother had been holding in his left hand: “Give that back,” the other roared.

“No.”

“For fuck sake, give me the bag.”

“Only if you stay.”

“I’m gonna punch you if you don’t give me that bag.”

“You can try, but I’m not above beating up a cripple.”

“Not really above anything, shorty,” Jason teased.

As soon as Jason said that, Dick punched him in the stomach. He fell on his knees, gasping. Jason dared one look at his brother’s face, and the bastard had a smug smile painted on his features. He tried to stand up but Dick pushed him back down when the older brother crouched. They were at eye level, even the satisfied smile Dick sported couldn’t erase the worry in his eyes: “That’s cold, Dick.”

“You made me do it.”

“I didn’t make you do shit!”

“Hush, Little Wing. You don’t want me to call Alfred.”

Jason paled. He could fight his brother, but the butler would be a terrible opponent. The old man had been so nice and happy to have him back. They talked about cooking and tea, and sometimes when Jason was in a particularly good mood he would talk about his favorite weapons and ask the old spy all sorts of advice. If Alfred knew Jason tried to sneak out he would be so hurt. Jason could see the look in Alfred’s eyes when he mentioned going back to Gotham.

He was about to give a vicious answer but stopped when Tim walked out of the kitchen, still in his pajamas. He raised an eyebrow to the sight of his older brothers whispering aggressively: “Still up, Baby Bird?” Dick inquired.

“Had a nightmare,” the other mumbled, still sleepy.

“Oh, do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Care to tell why Jason’s mopping the floor at two in the morning?”

“I’m not mopping the dam…”

“Hush, Little Wing. He knocked his wound against the table when he tried to leave, and now he is wailing like a baby.”

“Fucking liar,” Jason snarled only to be muffled by Dick’s hand.

“He should stay at home, plus Deathstroke definitely wants him dead,” Tim stated.

“See? Even Tim agrees,” Dick smiled.

“Fuck you,” Jason said licking Dick’s hand making it was extra filthy and disgusting.

Finally, Dick stepped aside and helped Jason up while wiping his hand on Jason’s sweater with an unimpressed look. Jason surrendered and walked back to his bedroom thinking Dick would leave him alone now, but his big brother walked with him in the room. Dick sat in front of the door, the bag on his laps. Jason tried his best to stay irritated but he couldn’t bite back the small smile on lips, he fell on his bed and looked at the ceiling focus on ignoring Dick.

The night was silent. Jason’s mind was running wild. He was supposed to be back to Crime Alley, if the people stopped seeing Red Hood they would attack his turf and the people that started to live under his protection, and Charlotte was probably worried sick. He turned on his side and watched Dick to distract himself. His brother was observing him, Jason closed his eyes: he didn’t want Dick to say anything about the greenish glow of his eyes; nothing came. He looked one more time and saw Dick’s grip tightened around the bag: “You gonna hurt your back,” Jason stated.

“I can sleep on the ground for one night. 'm not going back to my bed.”

“Are you really going to stay here all night?”

“Yes.”

Jason sighed. Bruce was stubborn but Dick was a fucking mule. Jason remembered the fights the former robin and his father had when Jason was still a child. He had witnessed first hand how stubborn both of them could be. And oh, Jason knew that the only reason they worked together now was that Dick tried his best to keep his own temper in check. Jason was envious, Bruce had a way to unnerve him and make him so angry. One would say it’s because Jason couldn't bear an authority figure to give him orders, and in all honesty, Jason would agree. But with Bruce it was different, every time he said something to Jason the young man took it as a personal offense and reacted accordingly. Also, Bruce had a way to look at people that made them feel small, Jason hated that, he hated feeling like he was thirteen again, and being scolded.

Jason’s hands were sweaty. Just thinking about it made him angry. His temper was going to kill him. Again. He sighed, wiped his hands on the bedsheets: “I’m not leaving tonight. So you can go back. You’re going to freeze your ass staying on the ground.”

“Whatever you say, Little Wing.”

Jason exhaled sharply, Dick could be such a pain in the ass when he wanted to. He knew he was going to regret it but hey, Jason liked to believe he wasn’t a smart man. So he made one stupid decision, against his better judgment.

“Come.”

“What?”

“Come. With. Me,” Jason said slowly as if addressing someone particularly slow.

“As in: come in the bed with me?”

“If I didn’t know you were smart, I would assume you’re an idiot, Grayson.”

“No, it’s just…that I didn’t know you trusted me that much.”

“You know what? You can freeze your ass on the ground. I'm not gonna lose sleep over that.”

“No! I’m coming! It’s like a pajama party!”

“I never had a pajama party,” Jason mumbled.

“Yeah, me neither. But it’s probably something like that?” Dick dived under the blanket.

“You never had a pajama party with the Titans?”

Dick didn’t answer. He stared at the ceiling and smiled sadly: “Actually, I had one before. It was before… before my parents died. The adults told us we could have a trailer for a night and we slept in it. We had lots of food and music. I played a bit of guitar.”

“Must have been fun.”

“It was! One of the girls had a pet snake and she…” Dick stopped.

“What?”

“I can’t really remember her name,” Dick whispered.

“I’m sure it will come back.”

“I don’t know. I try not to think about the circus that much nowadays.”

“Why? You looked happy at that time.”

“I was! It’s just…it’s painful now.”

Jason paused. This whole situation was new. He could feel Dick was uncomfortable but still trying, as if sharing things with him was a way to pick up the pieces of their relationship. Jason heaved a sigh, he was not going to let his brother do all the work again.

“I had a nanny, she was our neighbor. She was french, it’s the only thing I can remember now. Sometimes it’s difficult to even remember my mother’s voice you know,” Jason whispered not knowing why he was trying to comfort his big brother.

“Yeah, it’s harder every day.” Dick stopped as if he realized something.“Wait a minute, you said that I looked happy. Does that mean you saw me?” Dick chipped.

_Shit_.

“Yeah, you were famous, no need to be so surprised. I saw you once. It was nice. Good night.”

“No! There is no way I’m dropping this. You saw me?” Dick’s voice betrayed his excitement.

“Yes, I did okay! It was kinda awesome to see you flying. You were a bit older than me and still, you did all those cool shit. I was impressed. Can you let it go?” Jason barked.

“I could teach you, you know?”

Jason turned his back to Dick and closed his eyes. That was a mistake. He shouldn’t have talked about that, he didn’t want to remember that time. He didn’t want to remember Willis, even thinking about his mom hurt. Dick stayed silent, he slithered his arm to Jason’s head, hesitated, and sank his fingers into the thick black curls. Jason stiffened, like a string ready to break. Dick stopped moving his fingers and waited. Finally, his brother’s back started to loosen up and Dick played with the hair again. They fell asleep like that, Dick's body heat driving Jason into a peaceful slumber and Jason’s deep breath enough to hypnotize Dick.

Jason woke up slowly. He felt an arm in his back and his instincts kicked in. He grabbed his knife and turned quickly ready to subdue the attacker. At the same time, Dick woke up and his muscle memory was the only thing that helped him stop Jason. They just looked at each other and Dick smiled: “Brings back memories.”

“I was totally gonna kick your ass this time.”

“I’m sure.”

“Asshole.”

* * *

Breakfast was silent, Bruce was dozing off and tried to hide behind his newspaper but no-one was duped. Jason played with his scrambled eggs completely oblivious to the glance Dick exchanged with Alfred: “Not hungry, Master Jason?” at this Bruce looked over his paper.

“I don’t usually eat in the morning,” Jason explained softly.

“Yeah, some people are not hungry in the morning,” Dick tried.

“It’s more like I work out, to push the limits of my body.”

“That’s not healthy,” Bruce thundered.

“Yeah, like you’re one to talk. Did you eat anything else besides your coffee?”

Dick’s eyes widened. He wanted to say something to defuse the atmosphere but Bruce only smiled.

“If you eat your eggs, I’ll eat mine.”

“Fuck off, I’m not thirteen anymore,” Jason bit back but Dick saw the amusement in his eyes.

“Maybe I’ll let you have some chocolate if you behave. Back in the days that always convinced you,” Jason blushed.

“Fine, I’ll eat. Only if I can have some ketchup,” Jason mumbled making Bruce smile and breathe something akin to “brat”.

* * *

Everything was going well. So obviously Jason had to fuck it up.

It was around four in the afternoon, Jason had been working on his stamina and thinking of his new strategy to take down Black Mask and not die trying, if possible. He knew he had to do something about Deathstroke. The mercenary wanted his money back but more than anything the wanted revenge. Jason sighed. He had planned to destroy Black Mask market en take his turf but the man was smart, plus he had the Terminator on his side. Yeah… Jason was fucked. He was deep in his thoughts when Bruce touched his shoulder.

Everything was going so well. He knew he was going to fuck it up someway. And he did.

When you have a wild animal around you, you are supposed to be careful. Especially if the animal as quick reflexes, strength, and deadly skills. Jason didn’t jump, his fight or flight reflexes jumped into action. He dropped and kicked Bruce’s legs, then straddled him, knife out and on his father’s throat.

Bruce Wayne was a smart man and came quickly to the realization that he had to appear the least threatening until Jason came back to his senses.

They locked eyes, Bruce opened his mouth to talk to him and ground the boy but Damian was next to them in a second and he pushed Jason off his father with all his strength: “Who do you think you are, Todd?” the kid snarled.

Jason snapped out of it. He watched his father still on the ground and then his baby brother standing between Jason and Bruce, he had his staff in both his hands ready to strike. Jason dropped the knife, he brought his knees to his chest and tried to breathe. His vision was clouded by dark spots: he was having a panic attack. The noise of the computer, Damian’s voice, Bruce steps, his clothes against his skin: everything was too much. He had to get out, he had to leave. He attacked Bruce. He attacked Bruce. He attac…

Bruce’s hands cupped his face. Jason’s eyes snapped open. Green met steel blue. His eyes were blue too once. Jason bit back a snarl. He hated that, the green in his eyes, in his mind, in his veins…everywhere tainting what he touched, what he saw, what he felt.

He heard something, something far away. Something deep. A voice. Bruce’s voice. And cries, whimpers, sobs. His sobs: “Jason look at me. You’re having a panic attack. You need to control your breath. And your mind.”

It was difficult. Coming back, not lashing out, not snapping at Bruce to go fuck himself. And not glaring at Damian who watched the scene with great focus and… worry? The kid took a step and then another. He dropped next to Jason and pushed his father’s hand: “Akhi?” the boy tried.

Focus zoomed back, suddenly the room was almost silent. It was deafening. Jason’s heavy breathing was the only they could hear: “What did you just say?”

“It’s just… I just thought that…”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Akhi.”

Jason closed his eyes. He could feel the small and cold hands of the boy on his face. His own skin felt sticky with sweat, his shirt was clinging to his back, his hands were wet. He felt filthy. Jason looked up and saw a trail of blood on Bruce’s neck. He bit his lip and looked down, mumbled a sorry and left the cave without looking back. They didn’t run after him and he was thankful. He needed to be alone, didn’t trust himself around others.

The shower was cold, too cold to feel good, and enough to feel repentant. He scrubbed his skin hard to make the stench disappear. He sat in the tube, the water falling harshly on his back. Jason felt like the street rat he knew he was. He was a dark spot in the manor. He should have left sooner. They didn’t know about the nightmares yet, better it stayed this way. He was lucky he didn’t have any with Dick last night, because they would have known he was a mess, beaten, broken, beyond salvation. Jason swallowed the tears back, he didn’t have the right to cry. Not now. Not here. Not around the people he had hurt.

He didn’t hear the knock on the door but he heard the steps —whoever that was, did it on purpose. He saw a strong arm pass in front of him and turned off the tap. He knew this arm, no-one except Bruce was built like this, he was a rock, unmovable, unbreakable. He felt Bruce’s other arm on his back: circling him: “Jason, gosh, you’re freezing.”

“It’s fine,” the boy mumbled.

“Do you do this often?” Bruce asked concerned.

“Do what?” Jason rasped.

“Take a freezing shower.”

Jason shook his head: “No. No, just when…” _when I deserve it_ he finished for himself.

“Can you step out of the bathtub?”

Jason didn't answer, he stood up and walked over the ceramic. Bruce covered him with a soft towel. Jason realized after a moment that Bruce was going to see him. Bruce was going to _see_ him. See them. Jason turned his back to his father and tried to cover his waist. Bruce probably saw the scars before when Jason was asleep after his fight with Deathstroke, but the boy wasn’t ready to see anyone's reaction to them. Bruce dropped a bathrobe on his son and turned his back to him. Jason had his answer: Bruce saw them before and didn’t want to see them again. He understood, of course, the gigantic Y on his waist was ugly, unsightly: “I can leave the bathroom if you want me to…” Bruce paused, he was searching for the right way. “We saw them. Alfred, Dick, and me. You probably didn't want us to see them…just know that it doesn’t change anything, okay?”

“They are ugly,” Jason sobbed even if he would never admit he did.

“I disagree. They are proof of who you are. What you did, and what you went through. And survived,” Bruce took his arm and turned Jason around. “And survived Jason. They are not ugly. They are a monument to your strength.”

Jason stayed silent, letting the words sinking in. He sighed. He didn’t dress, the long bathrobe was soft and soft was good for now. He’d go back to the rough material that scratched against his scar tissues, that caught on the rough skin of his back. But he didn’t need that now. Jason sat slowly on his bed, knees against his chest, and felt the heavier bulk of Bruce on his side. The arm that weaseled his way around him was warm, comforting. Jason pressed against his father. His head fell on his shoulder: “I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“Shh, it’s alright. I shouldn’t have sneaked on you while you were training.”

Jason looked at his hands. He felt as if they were still covered in blood. He knew he was a rabid dog. Even Ra’s Al Ghul thought so. For a time Jason had thought Ducra had helped him, that all the violence and the rage had finally left. Now, he knew he was wrong. He closed his eyes: “I’m sorry I’m a mess, Bruce.”

“You’re lost, Jason. Not a mess. Just lost.”

“Thank you, for not giving up on me.”

“Why would I give up, when every time you prove me you are worth it and even more. Jason what I saw in that alley, what I saw in you when you were younger, starving, and alone: I still see it. You try your best to hide it, but I see the heart of a young boy who grew up in a city, who got protected and cared by the city, I see a young boy who wants to repay his debt to Gotham. I see you, and I see that you care.”

Jason smiled, closed his eyes, and sighed: “Stop it, you big boob,” and Bruce chuckled.

* * *

Jason would lie if he said he didn’t fall asleep on his father’s shoulder. The curare and the wounds took a toll on his body, and the panic attack didn’t help. He woke up under his blanket completely tucked in, he smiled. Pennyworth was comfortably spread on his waist, the cat was purring loudly while he licked his paw: “If your master finds out that you keep sleeping with me, I’m gonna be in trouble,” Jason said scratching the cat behind his ears.

“He likes you,” Damian acknowledged from the door.

“Hey…you can take him back, I didn’t mean to…Well, he always finds a way to come here,” he answered. 

_Perfect Jason, blame it on the cat._

“I know, he’s been scratching at your door since you came back,” Damian stopped as if he was gathering some bravery to keep going.

“Oh, okay. If he is in my room you can take him back. Just knock before you come in,” Jason tried. After all the cat was Damian’s and the kid probably didn’t like the fact that one of his brothers stole his pet from him. He watched his baby brother rocking from one foot to another: he looked like a kid who was scared to ask something to his parents.

“Or you can just come to my room when he is around,” Jason watched as his brother’s face lit up. The boy walked in and Jason panicked: he wasn’t good with kids, he never had been, what could they talk about, what kind of things kids that age were interested in?

The boy sat on the bed and scratched the cat chin, he looked pleased. Jason finally realized he was holding his breath. He observed the boy, Damian was small but he would grow and be probably as large as Bruce: they did look similar. Damian looked up and locked his gaze in his brother’s eyes. Damian’s green eyes were piercing, intimidating almost: “Do you speak Arabic?”

_Okay, that came out of nowhere but who was he to judge?_

“Uh…Yeah. Talia, I mean your mother she taught me when I was still with her and I kinda liked how it sounded since I was a kid so I did my best. How do you know?”

“You…yesterday, I called you akhi and you reacted.”

_oh!_

“Oh! I…huh…don’t really remember what happened during the attack… I…reacted?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, it brought you back. I mean, you were begging in Arabic, that’s why I spoke to you. I thought it would help? I don’t know… I didn’t really think. It was as if I used to do it and the instinct took control.”

“Well, I guess it worked... And...uh...why did you use this word in particular?”

_Smooth Jason, real smooth. Can you be any more transparent? Why don’t you beg now that you're at it?_

Jason watched the kid’s face heating up. At least both of them had something in common: the inability to use words and express their feelings. Great. Damian kept on petting the cat, his eyes desperately glued to the fur. Jason smiled: “I like it. Ahki is fine by me.”

Damian's neck almost snapped with how fast he looked up. Jason winced at the sudden movement. The boy didn’t know were to stand in the family drama, and honestly who could blame him: “I always wanted a big family,” Jason kept going.

“You are served,” Damian smiled.

“It feels good,” Jason chuckled.

They stayed in the room until Alfred called for lunch. Damian stood up first and walked stiffly to the door. He looked back one more time: “Can I come back? Even if the cat is not here,” he whispered.

“Anytime you want, Baby Bat,” Jasons said ruffling the boy’s hair.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Grayson.”

* * *

Jason sat in the cave going over his files, and over again. Barbara had given him access to the computer and the CCTV in Gotham. Black Mask didn’t put a bounty on his head but Jason was sure Deathstroke was supposed to get him at some point, and probably bring him to Sionis for some unpleasant and painful time. He had one solution, one the others were not going to approve of but probably the most efficient one. He heard some steps behind him and saw Dick’s reflection on the computer screens: “You alright, Jay?”

“Yeah…Listen I might have a plan.”

“Great! Do you need help?”

“Well, at the moment? It would be great if you could help me to convince Bruce to let me do it.”

Jason turned to face his brother. Dick’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not gonna like it, am I?” the older man asked.

“You might feel slightly opposed to it,” Jason winced.

“Spill.”

“I want to infiltrate Black Mask’s organization. Make a deal with him and stuff.”

“Absolutely not,” came the strong answer.

Yeah, Jason was ready to fight Dick over this, plus he needed him for the start of the plan. However, Dick had the nasty habit to overprotect his brothers. Jason didn’t know why, but if he were to take a lucky guess he would bet on his death being a bit more traumatic than he thought. Jason brushed his curls back: “Listen, I’ve thought about it. It’s not that bad. And this time it could be less dangerous.” _Liar_ his mind whispered.

“Like that time you got shot by Slade? Or that other time when he waited for you in your apartment? Or the other one when Joker beat you up with a crowbar?” Dick snapped. Jason recoiled.

“Okay, wasn’t expecting the last one… Kinda harsh coming from you,” Jason breathed.

Dick's eyes widened like he just realized what he said. Yeah, not thinking before talking was something they shared. Dick’s hand was on his arm in a second: “Sorry, I didn’t want to. Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he rushed.

“Wow, wow. Dick, it’s fine. I get it, you’re worried. Just listen to me, alright?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“Richard,” Jason said calmly. “Take a breath, buddy. You probably had a long day. I know you didn’t want to say that.”

“More like a long month,” Dick finally smiled.

“You think you can listen to me?” and Dick nodded.

Jason told him about his plan, about the meeting he wanted to have with Black Mask, and how he could handle Deathstroke at the same time. Dick was impressed and clearly more up to the task once Jason was over, but Jason didn’t address the most important thing: “How do you contact Black Mask?” Dick worried.

“I’m glad you asked, I need to ambush Slade Wilson.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“He is the only one with Sionis’ number except for his secretary. And I can rough Wilson up without angering Roman. If I touch the secretary, Mask might be less interested in my proposition. He is a bastard and doesn't like it when someone plays with his toys, you know him.”

“How are you going to ambush The Terminator, if I might ask?”

“Easy. And for once I think you’re going to like it.”

Bruce was against it. What a surprise! The man thought he could handle Deathstroke and once they got rid of the mercenary they would help the police to take Black Mask down, he wanted Jason to stay away from trouble and even from Gotham. Jason knew that Bruce would react that way: “How long?” he asked.

“What?”

“How long will it take, Bruce? They are going to hurt the people in my turf. They are going to be even more dangerous. Do you believe that during the time you’ll take to fight Wilson out of Gotham, Black Mask wouldn’t have bought all of the police? Do you believe he’ll let the good cops survive for that long?”

“That’s not the…”

“That’s exactly the point. I give you a solution, a good one. I’ll destroy Mask from the inside, quickly even, and my neighborhood will be safe. Come on. The only reason you don’t want me to do it is that I’m your…is because of our relationship.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll do it with or without you. I don’t need you, but some backup would be nice.”

The look Bruce gave him made Jason smile, it said one thing and a million: you win, I don’t like that, be careful. Jason put his hand on his father’s shoulder: “Come on, old man. We need to set a trap.”

Two days later, Jason was out of the manor. He drove around the city, making sure Deathstroke would see his face at some point. He wanted to lure the mercenary out and Jason had to say it: he made the perfect bait. He went to one of his safe houses, one with big windows and near the upper east side: Black Mask’s turf. Jason was waving a giant middle finger at Wilson, he wanted to piss him off. He received a message from Barbara telling him the Big Bad Wolf was here: waiting.

* * *

Slade Wilson knew a trap when he saw one. This one was vulgar, gross, amateur. And Red Hood was everything but an amateur. The boy was planning something else, he could feel it. So, Slade waited. He waited until the sun went down, and he waited again. He saw Grayson coming to visit his brother without a care in the world. He had two bags with him, one full of groceries and the other with weapons probably. Todd closed the curtains, Slade slipped his thermic googles in front of his eye. They ate together and did something in the bathroom, it looked like Todd was washing his hair or something: would you believe it? Red Hood being so vain he spent hours in his bathroom.

After a moment he saw Nightwing slipping out of the window with all his suppleness, Red Hood followed. They laughed at something and Nightwing flew off. Hood headed to crime alley, and Wilson followed.

Unaware of the big smile Red Hood wore behind his helmet. Checkmate.

Red Hood stopped a group of burglar and Slade would have stepped in and shot the vigilante if the Batman didn’t drop next to his protégé. The merc watched them fight the criminals off, and something felt wrong. Batman and Red Hood looked like they were used to each other, not surprising since he trained him but there was more. Some moves were different, Slade didn’t have the same feeling as last time when he fought Hood.

And Hood slipped. One of the men he was fighting landed a heavy hit and Slade saw Hood's hands going in his back as if to grab something:escrima sticks, his mind provided. He saw Hood dropping to the ground and kicking the man but Wilson had already realized: “Nightwing,” he snarled.

Slade stood up and turned back to Todd’s apartment. He saw the other one heading in the opposite direction. They had played him, again. Such a childish move he couldn't believe he fell for it. He contacted Wintergreen but the other man couldn’t find any trace of the fake Nightwing in the city: “Shit,” Slade roared.

That fucking kid. He was going to snap him in half.

Slade headed to his own safe house. Hood had vanished into the night, no reason to search for him. He would get him tomorrow and gut him. Slade couldn’t wait. 

One step in his flat and he knew something was wrong. He heard the buzz of an escrima stick, he saw the blue haze coming from his armchair. Slade switched the light on. In the chair sat Hood still wearing Nightwing’s suit, his mask laid discarded on the coffee table. The brat was smiling, head cocked on one side, legs open and one hand on one of Slade’s (formerly) hidden gun: “Took you long enough,” he teased.

“Jason.”

“Slade.”

Slade's eye detailed the boy, something was different, when he realized he almost slapped himself. He had dyed his hair, and here he thought the boy was vain. Smart bastard.

“New hair color.”

“I'm glad you didn't miss it,” the grin the kid wore was annoying.

Deathstroke saw someone slipping in the flat through the window: Nightwing. Grayson dropped the red helmet on the ground.

Slade slipped off his mask too. He leaned on the bar and crossed his arms: “What do you want?”

“A favor,” Jasons said softly but confident.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“If you give me what I want, I’ll return what I took from you,” suddenly Slade was more invested in the conversation.

“You’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that, kiddo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, old man.”

“What do you want, Todd?”

“Nothing too big, just Black Mask’s number.”

Slade laughed, hard, and loud. He saw Grayson stepping in front of his brother: idiot. On the other hand, Jason didn’t seem bothered: “You wanna hook up with him? Didn’t know you went after old men,” Slade teased.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Wilson. I can still make some time for you if you’re that jealous. Not like you would take too much of mine anyway,” the smile was vicious.

“You’d be surprised,” Slade bit back.

“I don’t want to give you a heart attack. It’s quite frequent at your age.”

“You don't have to find excuses. Just admit you're too scared to play with the grownups.”

“Can you stop?” Grayson asked.

“Alright, alright. We can do the teasing once I get the number. If it goes as planned we’ll see each other more often, Deathstroke.”

“The money first.”

“Nah, You give the number, I’ll send half of it. You’ll get the rest when Sionis meets me.”

Slade could go with that, but he didn’t like a teenager bossing him around. He drew his sword and Grayson grabbed one of the stick Todd was still holding: “How about you give half for the number, and the other half because I don’t kill you?”

“How about I still give half of it and forget that you just threatened my brother and me? I’m a good and patient man Wilson.”

“You just want the number. Why me?”

“You're easy to trick,” Jason lied.

“I want half now. I’ll give you the number after.”

Grayson’s grip tightened around the stick, he growled: “Slade.”

“Alright. Give me a minute,” Hood laughed.

Todd stood up and turned his back to the two other men. Another way to insult Slade or to prove Nightwing he trusted him. He was talking to someone else and nodded as he gave some instructions. Grayson’s eyes didn’t leave Wilson, he held his stick ready to pounce. Slade sighed, his phone rang, he picked up: “Don’t tell me. Hood transferred back half of what he took?”

“How do you…” Slade hung up and threw his phone to Todd who was watching him with a wide smile.

The kid scrolled and stopped. One of his eyebrows rose: “Didn’t take you for one who used emojis. What do we know.”

“You done?”

“Almost.”

Jason pressed his gloved finger against the screen and put the phone to his ear: “Hey Roman, heard you were looking for me,” his smile widened.


	5. Beg me for mercy Beg me for forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I’m so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> So I managed to write the chapter (my favorite so far) and I hope you will like it. To everyone leaving comments you make my day, I love getting them and you are so precious. Thank you! The title comes from the song Blood//Water from Grandson if you want to listen to it! I know it's not canon but my Roman Sionis has a face so yeah. I hope you'll like this chapter as much as I liked writing it. I put some new tags so read them and the rating will change (not like now now but in the next chapters).

** RED HOOD RISING: **

** BAD APPLE **

** CHAPITRE 4: **

Slade had to give him some credits, the boy knew how to clean up. The mercenary watched as Red Hood stepped out of the black SUV, he was wearing a black three-piece suit, a crimson shirt —really the kid couldn’t go anywhere without red— over his shoulders was thrown a black coat. And la pièce de resistance was the red mask covering only half of his face, letting everybody see his greenish eyes. The way Jason walked down Black Mask’s hall was as of a prince coming back to his kingdom.

Hood spotted him, his eyes wrinkled, the kid was smiling. Jason brushed his black curls back, Slade was pleased —and he didn't want to dwell on that feeling— that the white strand was back in the vigilante’s mane. Todd winked at him and kept walking towards the elevator, the boy didn’t ask any indication, he knew the building, he studied its blueprints, and he wanted Black Mask to know that. Cocky brat. But Slade knew what this dinner was about; a power play. Sionis had asked for a dinner at home and Jason had agreed in a heartbeat, no hesitation, no weakness, pure brash confidence. He had a plan, and honestly, Slade respected that, the boy had balls, but more importantly he had brains.

Slade joined him in the elevator. They waited in silence until Black Mask decided to let the elevator up. Jason snorted at the poor attempt of intimidation and Slade’s left eyebrow rose. The mercenary watched the boy and from up close he could see the small freckles splattered over the boy’s cheekbones and probably his nose hidden behind the mask. Jason’s eyes slid to Slade and the man noticed his mistake, the eyes weren’t greenish they were blue, tainted with green stripes. Slade smiled: “I suppose you’ll give my other half at the end of your little meeting.”

“Gosh Wilson, it’s almost like you’ve got some brains under that ridiculous mask of yours.”

_Don’t answer that, he wants to provoke you._

“Careful, kid. You don’t want to piss off the only person that still wants you alive tonight,” Wilson said ripping his mask off his face —definitely not because of the boy’s taunt.

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

_Brat_.

“I might,” Slade turned and faced Jason. He took one step but the boy held his ground with an unimpressed look. “Let me warn you, though, I won’t stop even if you beg me.”

And Slade swore he could see the smile that settled on the kid’s features, he saw the mischievous look in his eyes and perhaps…the heat? The boy took one step forwards and their chests were almost brushing, he cocked his head and the neon lights of the elevator made his eyes sparkle, Slade almost —almost— missed what came next because he was too concentrated on the shining orbs.

“Promise?” the boy whispered.

_Ah, I’m so fucked._

Wintergreen had told him the kid was pretty. The bad kind of pretty. The kind that distracted, the femme fatale type. The kind that a twenty-three-year-old man had no right to possess. It was difficult to notice at first because half of the time the boy wore a ridiculous red helmet and the other half he was in slacks and hoodie. Maybe he didn’t know he was pretty, maybe he didn’t care.

Wayne knew how to choose them, the bastard.

However, Slade was a master assassin, he controlled his reflexes, he was a war-machine. Whatever the boy wanted to provoke didn’t show on Slade’s face, so he stepped back and focused on the doors behind the mercenary. Mercenary who was wrestling with himself to stay focused.

Still, Slade had the devilish conviction that someone else was going to have a hard time tonight. After all, Black Mask liked pretty things and wasn’t ready for the ephebe coming to tear his empire down. Achilles had stepped in Troy, and Slade couldn’t wait to see the war.

They stepped out of the elevator and passed a metal arch. Slade beeped when he walked past it, his guns and swords stayed on him. He watched Jason stalking without faltering. The arch didn’t beep and Slade chuckled. He couldn’t believe the kid came unarmed as promised. Jason gave him a look and went beyond him, Slade followed his lead.

Black Mask waited for them in his penthouse which was just above his office. They could have met in a fancy restaurant, or in the office over a glass of good old bourbon, but Black Mask liked to play with his prey. And even more, the criminal got off with showing his wealth, so he had redecorated his penthouse for the sole purpose of the meeting. Slade had to watch him choose which mahogany table he was going to buy for the dinner, and then which china. Slade didn’t even want to talk about the shopping for alcohol. Black Mask was a piece of work.

So, when they stepped in the penthouse after that two heavily armed and muscular men opened the two heavy wooden doors, and Black Mask was nonchalantly sprawled over one of the two newly acquired leather armchairs without his mask, Slade knew the clown had been rehearsing this moment. However, Jason had been raised by Bruce Wayne and he knew power play, he knew the way you should use money, influence, image. He knew how to wield it and he would.

Jason stepped forward, he was gracious, intense, purposeful. Still, Slade noticed the boy’s footsteps were soundless —dangerous— Red Hood was a panther ready to tear anyone apart. He extended his hand and Roman took it once he was standing. They shook hands and no-one of them succumbed to the petty harsh squeeze one would do to show strength, they were old money but the temptation was here. Slade shrugged. He watched as Mask introduced himself and waited for Jason to do the same.

And oh boy, he was not disappointed. The boy dropped his coat and then he took his own mask off and threw it on the coffee table —also a recent purchase. Slade would remember his entire life how Sionis just stared at the boy’s face in shock: “Jason Todd, but you can call me Red Hood,” the kid smiled a boyish smile, dimples on the cheeks, sparkling white teeth, freckles on the nose, and blue eyes. Sionis was not prepared and it showed.

It took Roman a minute to take on the boy’s whole body, perfectly hugged by the expensive suit when he walked in the room. But this face, really this face made him rethink the entire plan of action. Roman licked his lips, Red Hood was a lovely sight and the whole beheading him and throwing his body in the harbor was probably exaggerated. And then, Roman decided to call it off. He didn’t offer the bourbon laced with a slow-acting poison, no, he opened his most expensive whiskey: “So, Jason,” and Roman rolled the name over his tongue. “You wanted to talk about business.”

“We can do that later, Sir,” and the way Hood used the honorific made Roman shiver. “We can talk about something else for now, unless you want to get this over with.”

“We can do business later. I booked my evening just for you” _and my night if you want to, lovely boy._

“Good,” Jason smiled behind his glass.

Jason sat in the other armchair when Roman invited him. Slade stayed behind Roman and he was most happy to do so. No-one charged for looking but the kid definitely should. Jason radiated confidence and ease. He drank slowly the alcohol, his pink tongue darted to lick his lips, and Slade swore he saw Roman clenching the arms of the chair. The kid didn’t even look like he was trying, but the playfulness Slade noticed in the looks the boy threw at him made him think otherwise. Someone trained him to seduce, not Selina Kyle —this one, she played with her sexiness— this type of seduction was someone else’s trademark, someone Slade knew very well. Talia Al Ghul was behind this, he would bet his favorite sword on it.

Sionis bent forward and put his elbows on his knees: it spelled “I’m in charge”. Jason cocked his head and smiled at something Mask said and then they both looked at him: “What do you say, Wilson? Did the kid give you a run for your money?” Roman said, snapping Slade out of his daydream.

“That’s a sore spot, Roman. Don’t rub it in. By the way, can I call you Roman?” the boy asked eyes wide open and his red lips in the shape of an O.

“Of course, Jason,” the boy gave him a small smile. “We are going to see each other often after tonight, I can tell. Better drop the honorifics right now.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Roman. Maybe I’ll decide to kill you,” wolfish smile, sweet delivery. The words floated in the room. Slade smiled, the boy was good.

“Or maybe I’ll kill you first, Jason. Like a praying mantis,” Roman laughed. No-one missed the way it implied sexual intercourse. Slade eyed Roman, the man was probably smarter than he appeared.

“Oh? Is this a date then?” Jason asked opening the buttons of his waistcoat with one hand.

“If you want it to be one.”

“I’ll tell you that later then,” Jason answered loosing his necktie a bit. He showed his throat for a bit. Slade’s enhanced hearing told him that Roma had a hard time swallowing.

They walked to the table when Jason finished his first drink. Slade dropped his gear on the sofa. He was in a plain black shirt and black pants under his armor and seeing the two others he felt a tad bit underdressed. Jason dropped his jacket and waistcoat where he left his coat first. He walked past Slade and finally the mercenary could see the boy’s rear. _God_ , that was beautiful, like carved out of marble. The way the shirt stuck to the boy’s shoulders, how it moved, and stretched at each movement. Roman took an eyeful too, and Jason acted as if he didn’t notice a thing. He turned and smiled at them.

Slade sat in front of Jason, while Roman was on the boy’s left at the head of the table. Sionis snapped his fingers and three waiters walked in, they put the plates in front of the three men and removed the kitchen bells at the same time. Slade eyed the entrée, he knew exactly what the menu was since Roman had only talked about that for the last week. They started to eat and talked. Red wine was served and if Slade had to be honest Black Mask had some taste.

Jason was playing with the cucumber under his fork while listening to Roman talk about his art collection. Jason already knew all that was said, but managed some interesting questions and Roman gave him a pleased look. Jason felt more than once Slade’s gaze on him. The mercenary was analyzing every little smile, nose scrunch, and increase of heartbeat. But Slade was someone he was used to. On the other hand, Black Mask was a variable. He was smart, Jason tried his best not to forget it even if it was difficult. Black Mask was a criminal mastermind that was used to people underestimating him: Jason wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

Jason laughed at one of Slade's intervention and his head went back, showing his throat. A good move Talia had taught him. Roman’s eyes were locked on his Adam’s apple. Slade gave him a knowing look while he took the first bite of the second meal. Talia had been a good teacher and Jason was a good student, if not excellent.

Now that Slade knew the boy had probably been trained by the Demon’s daughter it was easier to spot the fake part of Jason’s act, and it was easy since his entire demeanor was a trick. A good trick: a mix of sexy and bold. Jason brushed against Roman’s hand to take some bread. Roman did not react, he let it slip. But a few seconds later, Jason went stiff and Slade could see Roman smile behind his intertwined fingers. Jason put his fork down and smiled at Roman who winced and then licked his lips still watching the kid. If Slade didn’t know better he would have thought that the creep was probably brushing his shoe against the boy ankle and Jason had just kicked him, but Roman wouldn’t do that, would he?

Jason played this weird game the entire evening. He let Roman touch his shoulders, hair, arms. He let him whisper in his ear at some point and the hot breath blown in his ear almost made Jason lower his head in his shoulders.

They stood up and followed Roman in his petit salon to drink one last time. He sat on the sofa because he wanted to have Sionis next to him and knew the gangster would take the opportunity, he had been insufferable the entire evening. But Jason didn’t count on Slade, Slade who sat next to him with a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-that expression on his face. Roman turned with the drinks and gave the mercenary a nasty look. Jason settled on the sofa and took the drink: “Thank you, Roman,” he rolled the name on his tongue and locked his gaze with Sionis’.

“You are most welcome, Jason,” by the end of the evening Jason knew he was going to be sick to hear his name said with such a libidinous inflection.

“It was a good evening. How about I make it better?” Jason finally said.

_I know how you can do that, lovely boy._

“What do you mean?” Roman asked literally on the edge of his seat.

Jason gave him a knowing smile, he took a little box from his pants and slid it to Roman on the glass table. The criminal observed the small velvet box. He put his index finger on it and glided it toward him:

“If that’s a ring, Jason, let me tell you I’m more of a collar person.”

Slade rolled his eyes. Black Mask was a fucking horndog, and Slade would know he was one too. But right now, he was starting to get on the mercenary’s nerves. Roman popped the lid open. He grabbed the small key that was in it: “Okay. That’s a key thank you,” he deadpanned.

“This might or might not be the key to one of the containers someone stole from you two weeks ago. You know when the arbor was all hot and bothered,” Jason said softly.

Slade straightened. The show was about to begin and he didn’t want to miss it. Jason was barring his teeth head-on, showing what he was capable of, but this was also a peace offering. The kid had been planning something. Roman raised one eyebrow: “I thought all of it went up in flames.”

“I like to keep some souvenirs,” white teeth flashed.

“What kind of container was it?”

“The kind Superman would like to know about.”

_Kryptonite._

“What were you planning to do with it when you stole it?”

“What are you planning to do with it when you get it back?”

They smiled. Roman was in shark mode and no amount of pretty ass was going to distract him now.

“Is this a gift?”

“Let’s just say that guests are supposed to bring something to the host. I’ve always thought wine and flowers were mainstream.”

“I can tell you, I like this way more than wine and flowers,” Sionis smiled and there was a vicious something in his eyes.

“Good. Now we can talk about our deal.”

No buttering up now. Jason was going straight for the kill. He watched Roman sit back in the armchair and sip on his drink. Power play, again…Jason was almost getting tired of this bullshit.

“What do you want?”

“Easy. No more dealing to the kids, I keep crime alley and a tremendous amount of money.”

“And what do you give me?”

Jason smiled a wicked smile.

“Myself. I give you my intel and I become one of your goons, Roman.”

_Goons don’t boss people around like that, kid._

“You’d go against daddy bats?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason blatantly lied.

“Come on, Jason. I know about your little déboires with the bats.”

“Let’s just say I’m out right now.”

Slade didn’t believe that one bit. And if Slade didn’t so did Roman.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jason,” came the harsh answer.

The boy stood up, opened his collar, and showed his neck. He was squeezing his shirt to keep the rest of his skin hidden, but the large white and swollen scar was here. Roman whistled: “Batarang. Nasty shit.”

“I don’t work with him anymore.”

_Bullshit_.

“Then why did he help you when Slade attacked you in the streets?”

“Batman didn’t help me in the streets. Nightwing did. The guy is a nasty mother hen,” Jason spat.

_Bullshit. Bullshit._

“Slade, is he telling the truth?”

Jason didn’t waver, he looked at him defiantly.

“He is telling the truth. It’s Nightwing that saved his ass that night.”

If the kid wanted to play with the words, so would Slade.

“If you don’t work with them, why did you save Bullock and Gordon?” Roman crossed his legs.

“Nightwing asked me. Gordon is a friend. And I don’t kill good cops,” he said in a heartbeat.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you think Batman would let me give you a container full of kryptonite?”

“Maybe he is waiting next to the container.”

“Listen, Roman. I get it, you don’t want to trust me because I fucked with you. But here I am with a good deal. Give me a free trial, the crazy motherfucker in a ski mask can watch me if something worries you. And by the end of the trial, you can kill me or whatever.”

_Or whatever._ Roman liked the sound of that.

“You really want to work for me.”

“With you. I’m not stupid, Roman, you own a big part of the city, you’re the head of Gotham underworld. Don’t kid yourself you weren’t my only target in Gotham, all the old families are after me. I need an ally, a powerful one.”

“And you chose me,” Roman said running his finger over the edge of his glass.

“You see any other powerful ally, here?”

“That stings, kiddo,” Slade barked.

“Let me get this straight, you, Red Hood will do anything I’ll ask,” Roman said clearly charmed by the idea.

“Depends on what you’re asking. I keep my right to say no.”

Sionis hummed, he brushed his hair back and finished his drink. He let a big, awful smile on his face.

“If I ask you to go to Star City and make sure my next order is on its way to Gotham, would you say yes?”

“I’d say: when are we leaving?” Jason smiled back.

“Splendid. You are truly a specimen, Jason. Maybe I’ll take you under my wing someday. Until that, you’re with Deathstroke in Star City. He’ll tell you what you’ll have to do. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

Jason stood up and so did Roman. They shook hands but Roman’s lingered a moment too long. Slade followed the lead, put his armor back while Jason did the same. They left Roman to his empty apartment and stepped in the elevator. The kid was silent but his eyes were focused, Slade couldn’t see his face because of the mask the kid put back but he was sure his expression probably betrayed intense concentration. Slade leaned against the wall, he crossed his arms and watched the young man: “What is it?” Jason snapped.

“The money…”

“Will be transferred at exactly two in the morning,” Jason answered.

“Would it have been transferred even if Black Mask decided to kill you?”

“Yes,” Jason laughed. “The thing between Black Mask and me doesn’t really concern you and we had our own deal. I’m a man of words.”

Slade laughed softly.

“You are certainly an unusual fellow, Hood.”

“I know, right?” the boy laughed.

They stepped out, how did the Hood’s driver know his boss going to leave Slade never knew, but the SUV was in front of the door waiting for Jason. Said boy paused at the door and turned to give Slade a long look: “Care to have one last drink with me?”

“Hitting on me, Red Hood?”

“Trust me, if I were you’d be embarrassed for me,” the boy chuckled.

“I saw what you’re capable of tonight,” Slade noted when he stepped in the car.

“I was only seducing him, it’s not the same. Black Mask is a fucking piece of shit.”

“And I’m not?”

“I don’t know, Slade, are you?”

Jason sat in the car and closed the door, he threw his mask on the seat between Slade and him, and then dropped the necktie: “So fucking uncomfortable.”

“To be fair, you did look good tonight,” Slade grinned.

“Doesn’t mean it was comfortable. I hate wearing suits,” the boy said throwing his waistcoat over his mask.

“Noblesse oblige.”

Jason snorted, “I’m a street rat, Slade. There is no noblesse in me.”

“You looked everything but a street rat.”

“Thanks, with the time you learn how to hide your stench.”

Slade frowned, so the kid’s brash confidence was just for show. The mercenary dropped his mask too and he was struggling with the situation, his instincts told him to comfort the kid and say something, plus Slade didn’t think the kid was filthy, but he wasn’t his goddamn father, and certainly not a therapist. He dropped the subject: “Talia trained you well.”

“She wasn’t the only one,” the boy smirked.

“Really?”

“Dick taught me some stuff. He is a shark when he wants to be.”

_Oh, I believe you, Grayson is a sly bastard._

“You’re a good student,” Wilson muttered.

Jason eyed him with something akin to excitement: “I can open my schedule for another teacher,” he said. And Slade knew the kid was talking about fighting skills but he wished the boy weren’t.

“I don’t take trainee,” he said lying to himself. The boy was good and Slade knew he could sharpen his skills.

“Tell that to Dick.”

Slade winced.

“Jealous?”

“Of my brother? Yeah,” he said smiling, but this time it was different, it was bitter.

“You shouldn’t. You’re both different fighters. And good ones,” Slade said trying not to think of the urge that told him to comfort Todd.

“I would be better under your tutelage.”

“What do I get?”

“The pleasure of my company. And whatever your price might be.”

“You’re serious about that?”

“Wilson, I got my ass handed to me the second time we met. I’d rather it didn’t happen again.”

“Still resentful.”

“More like impressed.”

The car stopped and Jason told the driver to park wherever he wanted and then to head home, the man nodded and when he left the vehicle Slade saw the gun and the knife strapped to his thighs, but more importantly, he saw the dog tag, he knew the name of that man: a mercenary, a good one, even. Slade eyed Jason warily, the kid knew how to surround himself.

They were in front of a run-down bar in crime alley: Jason’s turf. He knocked to the door and two eyes appeared, one blue, one golden. Where the fuck did the kid bring him? Jason smiled and said hello, the eyes widened and the door opened: “Sorry, didn’t recognize you for a minute, boss” the gigantic woman said.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Not used to see me so handsome.”

“You’re always handsome, boss.”

“That won’t give you a pay raise, Maddie.”

“No harm trying,” she laughed. “Who is it?”

“A friend,” Jason said waving his hand, and his voice was light.

They walked in, Jason went to see the bartender and went behind the bar, he turned to Slade and told him to come with him. Slade didn’t really like whatever the fuck was happening but he followed the boy anyway. The walked down a spiral staircase, and the buzz of the music came to Slade's ears. They passed three bouncers that said a respectful hello to Jason and eyed Slade suspiciously. Finally, someone opened the club’s doors.

It was nice. Well, Slade wasn’t used to nice things, most of the time he slept in decrepit hotels and plain b&n. Slade wasn’t used to this and he found out he quite liked it. The kid had some taste. The room was lighted by some dim lightbulb and there were yellow LEDs around the stairs of the different parts of the club. People were dancing lazily in the back part of the room. Jason headed to the bar and sat on one of the leather stools, Slade was happy to oblige. Jason ordered and smiled at Slade: “Welcome to crime alley, Wilson.”

“It’s funny, Black Mask never mentioned that you owned a club.”

“Let’s say, it’s my little secret garden.”

“And you let me in.”

“It sounds so wrong when you say it like that,” the boy sipped his drink with a grin.

“So, what does it do? Do you launder money here?”

Jason faked a shocked look: “My, my, Slade. I’m a respectable man. This is just a club.”

“Is it?” Slade took the bourbon in front of him and hummed. The kid had really good taste.

“Parfois Slade, un cigare n’est rien d’autre qu’un cigare.”

“Freud, really?”

Jason laughed, his head was thrown back and Slade could only watch him. They stared at each other, it was innocent really. And Slade tried to convince himself on the way home, it was innocent. The mercenary brushed Jason’s black curl behind his ear. Jason bit his lip and emptied his glass, he slammed it back with more strength and the bubble popped: “Go to bed, old man. I need you at your top if you want to train me,” the boy said standing up.

“Never said I was going to train you.”

“Never said you weren’t. Plus I already transferred your first paycheck.” Jason turned to the barman, “His drinks are on the house,” the other man nodded.

Slade watched the boy disappear behind two hidden doors guarded by a group of what seemed like customers but were probably trained bodyguards. Slade ordered another bourbon and enjoyed it slowly. Billy was going to be happy.


	6. So, before you go was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade found it funny how Todd seemed to trust him so easily now that they were both working for Black Mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> (PLEASE READ THIS NOTE)  
> First of all, I know I took my sweet time writing this chapter (sowwy) it's a monster, enormous and probably the last time I write so much for one chapter. In this chapter we encounter Talia and I know that in chapter one I said Damian was killed by Heretic and I made a huge mistake, I wanted to edit chapter one but thought against it Jason being overprotective and not wanting Damian to die (again) is important, so I'll just count on you to think that Heretic wasn't sent by Talia and that she is actually a good mother and is worried about her son.  
> Also, I put the tag unreliable narrator because Jason had a very poor self-estime and it reflects and influences the story.  
> I want to thank every one of you commenting and leaving kudos it's so awesome to see them in the morning thank you so so much. Also I started a small coffeeshop AU also a SladeJay check it out someday ;)  
> PS: the title is from Before You Go from Lewis Capaldi, I think it suits Jason Bruce very well (thank you Dyana for pointing it out)

RED HOOD RISING:

BAD APPLE

CHAPITRE 5:

Slade found it funny how Todd seemed to trust him so easily now that they were both working for Black Mask. They had been at each other throats a month ago and the young man was already sitting unarmed and completely unguarded in front of him in the merc’s living room. Slade knew a couple of people who had died like that. He watched amused over the rim of his coffee cup the boy’s attitude. He was playing with some thread escaping from his sleeve, not really paying attention to the dangerous killer he antagonized and robed weeks ago.

Slade put his gun on the table and Jason frowned. He looked at Slade and looked at the gun clearly confused: “Is this some kind of second-handed way to impress me or frighten me? ‘Cause I know what you can do with a gun or a coffee cup for what it matters,” Jason said nodding towards the mug.

Slade stayed silent. He sipped his coffee one more time and turned his attention back to the newspaper on his knees. He was sitting leisurely in his favorite chair, one leg propped up by the other. Jason huffed and went back to inspect his hoodie. He was chewing on some kind of gum and Slade felt his nerves starting to wither. The boy was a brat and a rude one. He popped a bubble. Slade took a deep breath and tried to act like the disappearance of a nameless eleven-year-old boy was interesting and kept reading the news.

_Pop._

He knew deep down that everything was calculated, that Jason had studied his way out of the flat way before he stepped in this morning. He knew the calm, bratty behavior was here to get a rise of him.

_Pop._

He knew the kid wasn’t really inspecting his hoodie. He knew that. He knew that the popping of bubblegum was planned. The position and the chewing were thought ahead. Slade knew that.

_Pop._

He looked at Jason, and this time he saw the boy tearing a page of yesterday’s newspaper to fold it in a small crane. His mouth was open and the bubble started to grow from the boy’s lips. He blew in it small breaths, Jason looked at Slade and grinned.

_Pop._

“You have five seconds to swallow that shit or I’ll make you,” Slade said.

“Train me.”

“As I told you, I never said I agreed to it.”

“Come on, old man. You know you want it.”

“I want to enjoy my morning coffee alone, but it seems we can’t have what we want, can we?”

“It seems to me, that _we_ could have what _we_ wanted if _we_ weren’t such a pain in the ass.”

“Listen up, kid,” Slade said crouching over the table. “I don’t take orders from a snotty bad-mouthed brat. So you can either go home or stay here for what I care, but I’m not training you.”

“What if I get killed because of my lack of training?”

“That one’s on you kid. Plus, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t stay dead. Too fucking stubborn,” not to mention he was probably one of the best-trained fighters Slade encountered in while.

“I paid you. A lot. I just want you to show me some move. Come on, I’m a pretty good student.”

“You’re pretty fucking annoying, that’s what you are.”

Jason grinned. Fuck that grin, fuck that smile. Fuck his eyes. Slade needed to stay focused. I did kinda like the brat, he had brains and skills for himself, and Slade Wilson didn’t like anyone, he didn’t do like. And okay, the brat was a sight for sore eyes. Fuck him, fuck the bat brats. Fuck Sionis. Slade heaved a deep sigh. He could allow one training session, hard and violent enough to make the kid think he couldn’t handle it. He could do that, this way the boy would leave him the fuck alone once and for all. That was a good plan, it would work. Slade was a machine, no-one could pick up his pace and hold it during his training. The boy would go back home to cry in daddy bat arms with sore muscles and a broken nose. Now, that was an idea.

“Give me a chance. Plus we are partners now! Black Mask makes us work together, you should help me so I won’t be a hindrance.”

“As if Sionis could make you do anything.”

Jason smiled but said nothing. He wasn’t going to admit anything but Slade knew enough. And the fact that Grayson hadn’t stopped visiting the kid in his flat every day the week prior finished convincing the criminal that Todd was playing a dangerous game. Slade stood up, he folded the paper and threw it on the table, the wind knocked down Jason’s paper crane. The boy stood up and walked behind Slade.

“What? Gonna annoy me when I take a piss?” Slade asked smiling.

“You’re such a prick.”

* * *

Jason rolled out of the way of the massive sword coming for his head. He watched with wide eyes as the blade sank in the ground. Jason grabbed his knife and went for his opponent’s ankle. Slade kicked him out of his way sending him sliding to the end of the room against the wall. The force of the impact stole the young man’s breath, he coughed and tried to stand only to have his arms kicked from under him: “Too slow,” Slade growled.

Jason rolled his eyes and did a backward roll to finally push on his arms and stand up. He had his knife in one hand and the other was squeezed in a fist. Slade faced him but sighed as if he was already bored. Jason felt some sweat falling down his back and he shivered. He saw Slade’s left foot turning slightly and Jason jumped forward.

They slammed into each other and even with each one of his pounds pushing down the mercenary, Jason felt like he wasn’t heavy enough. Slade grabbed the back of his shirt pulled the boy harshly to the ground. Jason heard the shirt crack around his neck and winced. On his way down, the vigilante managed to stab the older man in the thigh. Next thing he knew, he was sprawled face against the soft floor of the training room. Slade sat on top of him and waited for Jason to stop trashing around: “Too slow.”

“Oh, fuck you. You said you were going to assess my situation, not try to rip my throat.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you are as slow as my dead grandma.”

“I didn’t give everything,” Jason pleaded.

Probably the wrong answer since he felt the weight on his back becoming more important. Slade grabbed his hair and pulled his head back: “I want you at two hundred percent every time.”

“That’s not how percentage work.”

Slade stood up and kicked Jason’s arms under him with a sneer when the boy tried to stand up. The mercenary walked to his sword still embedded in the ground and tore it off. Jason didn’t even have the time to register Slade’s brute strength because the blade came flying to his head. Jason dared to look at Slade and he saw the playfulness disappearing from the man’s face. Wilson rolled one arm over his head, cracked his neck, and took out his gun, he aimed for Jason who only jumped out of the way: “If you don’t take this seriously, I’ll come at you with every intent to kill you. It’ll probably make you move faster.”

_And oh boy, he had no idea._

Jason when cornered was inhabited by a feral force, something akin to instincts but more dangerous if not controlled. Talk about the fear of dying or the visceral horror of digging his way out of his grave one more time, Jason was possessed by this strength. He moved fast, faster than earlier, and aimed for Slade’s neck. The exchanged hits and the young man saw his teacher smiling: “You fight like a German man I knew. Egon something.”

“Yeah, he trained me for a while,” Jason smiled and landed a punch.

“It’s funny cause I trained him,” Slade caged on of Jason’s arms and slammed his head against a wall, the ugly crack coming next notified Jason of his broken nose. He grimaced behind the dripping blood.

“You know what’s even funnier?” the young man said twisting his head against the harsh grip on his hair. “I killed Egon,” he spat blood to Slade's eye and threw his head sideways at the man's nose. Slade let him go and stepped backward.

“Good,” Slade smiled through the blood dripping from his also broken nose. “He was a knob,” and Jason was kicked one more time, this time in the face. He fell on the floor fighting to stay conscious.

“Asshole,” he managed to growl or mumble.

Jason woke up still on the ground, dry blood on his face and tears in the eyes. Getting beaten to a pulp by the Terminator hurt like a bitch. He could hear some water running in a corner of the room and the scratching of a brush against nails. Jason rolled on his back and turned his head towards the sound: “How’s the nose?” Slade asked when he heard the boy’s clothes rustling.

“Broken.”

“Told you to be faster.”

“Someone ever told you, how much of an asshole you are?”

“You, three times today.”

Jason sit up and ignored the disgusting feeling in his nose, he spat some blood on the ground and eyed Slade who was frowning at him: “You gonna want to clean that when we are over.”

“What do you mean when we are over. You knocked me out, the fight is over.”

“And yet, here you are, awake and running your mouth.”

Slade threw the brush over his shoulder back to the sink where he was cleaning his hands and tackled Jason to the ground. Jason elbowed him in the temple and crawled over to the weapon stash. He turned back only to be knocked down by an acrobatic kick: “Can’t believe you got trained by the league and still bitch for a broken nose,” Slade mocked.

“Wilson, most kindly, fuck off.”

* * *

Slade stepped out of the shower to a Jason Todd sprawled on the sofa of his apartment. The young man was flipping channels with a bored expression, he threw a glance at the older man and went back to the screen: “How’s the thigh.”

“Careful, I might think you care,” Slade smiled.

“How. Is. The. Thigh.”

“Healed.”

Jason rose, eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it, glanced at the now uninjured thigh: “That was fast.”

“Super soldier stuff, you know the drill.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with accelerated recoveries but I didn’t think it was that accelerated. That’s impressive,” he whistled.

“Is that why you left Wayne’s side only two weeks after I shot you?”

“Huh?”

“Because you are familiar with accelerated recoveries?”

“Ah! Yeah. I kinda heal faster than normal since the…” he paused and his nose scrunched. “Still, it’s not as effective as yours.”

They stayed silent for a moment, Jason turned back to the TV and Slade went into the kitchen to grab something to eat. He leaned against the counter and took a bit of the wrapped sandwich he had stashed in the refrigerator. Jason stopped on a detective movie and turned the sound up. Slade sighed: “Don’t you have a home?”

“Come on Slade we are partners now. Plus, it’s easier for you to spy on me this way.”

Slade munched another bite of the sandwich, he took his time chewing it down. The bread was stuck to his palate in the most irritating way.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a lisp.

Jason humphed: “I know Roman asked you to watch me. I saw you on the campus last week, almost didn’t recognize you by the way.”

“That’s the point of a good disguise,” Slade mocked trying to refrain from using his fingers to remove the bread against his palate.

“Did you tell him?”

“What?” the merc said gulping down a tall glass of water.

“That I go to uni, dumbass.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He asked for a report and I provided.”

“Fuck,” the boy whispered.

“Sionis doesn’t care about your fucking creative writing class, Jason.”

“No, but he’ll care about the people around me.”

“Fair enough.”

Jason stood up and jumped over the sofa. His shirt was tainted with his own blood. He strolled to stop in front of Slade and scowled at him. Slade would have found the same look absolutely adorable on a kid —even if he would never say so— but on Jason Todd, it was pissing him off.

“What?”

“Did you tell him about the bakery?”

“What bakery?” he lied.

Jason grabbed the second sandwich from the package and munched it. His eyes were locked to Slade’s and he wasn’t backing down.

“You know the bakery I visit every couple of days,” Jason finally answered. He was lying he went every day to visit Lottie and ask if she needed some help with stuff or if someone needed Red Hood’s help.

“Yeah. He knows about the bakery.”

“You are a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, don’t get angry with me. If you wanted to protect the granny maybe you shouldn’t have hung out with her,” Jason turned red, angry red.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the kid growled.

Jason turned his back to Slade, grabbed his jacket, he walked to the door and slammed it when he left. Slade was still leaning against the counter completely clueless about what had just happened.

Jason was fuming. Okay, he was in the wrong but he wasn’t ready to hear it. Charlotte was probably the only weakness (beside campus, his friends on campus, the kids in crime alley, and the bat family but this was another talk) he let himself have. She was nice and gave him food. She was always asking him how he felt. And when he needed somewhere to put the children that needed a job he asked her to take them. She even rubbed his hair when he was around her, also she called him “mon loup” and he liked it, not that he would ever tell anyone. Charlotte was nice and he could crash at her home if he needed someone to take care of his injuries, he kinda met her like that anyway.

He stopped in front of his door feeling like a kid who threw a tantrum. He could have that, right? He could have Charlotte and her good food, her smile, her hand in his hair. He could right? He could protect her, she was on his turf. He felt the small pang of anxiousness in his heart. He was a vigilante for fuck sake, what would he do if he couldn’t protect one small feisty grandma? He fiddled with his keys still in front of the door. Maybe he should stop seeing her, he should go and tell her, that until he dealt with Sionis he wasn’t going to see her. It was safer this way. It was dangerous for the civilians he meddled with. He should stop going to uni too, he heaved a sigh. College was a freedom he let himself enjoy, he wanted to graduate, he never had the chance to end high school, he needed to have a proof he could study. He’d go back. He could do that once he dealt with Roman.

He was an idiot he should have stopped the moment he noticed Slade a week ago.

* * *

Jason had felt it in the back of his neck, the hair raising, the cold sweat: someone was following him. Years of training couldn’t make up for instincts. He grew up in Crime Alley and feeling when someone was following had to become second nature. He took a different way and walked in the subway, lots of people, lots of exits. When he stepped out of the wagon he slipped in a corner, took his black hoodie off, and tied it around his waist, he took the cap he always had in his backpack and put it on. When a group of students walked past him he left his hiding spot and tried to walk with them as closely as possible. The feeling was no longer here but he couldn’t let his guard down.

Still, he went to his Monday courses and joined his campus friends. He would have missed him, but Isaiah had said one thing: “Damn that’s a daddy if I know one.”

And Jason looked up like everyone else in their merry group. He recognized the way the man stood: military. Slade in civilian clothes couldn’t hide the power his body possessed. Jason’s pencil broke under his grip. Of course, Black Mask would have had him followed.

He should have stopped going to class at this time but doing that would let Slade know he knew he was being followed, however, he wanted to keep that advantage, that and Jason was cocky. What would Black Mask do, huh? Follow him to death? Jason was dead to the world, Sionis couldn’t find anything on him even if he wanted to. So Jason kept going, he went to see Charlotte too. He kept helping the sex workers in East End and gave some money to the crime alley kids.

Jason could already hear Bruce’s nagging, he had endangered civilians and now if something happened to them it was on him. . He couldn’t have anything nice, could he?

* * *

He opened his door and Dick was inside sitting at the counter an open file in front of him, chewing on his pen. Jason dropped his jacket on the chair next to him and asked him if he wanted some coffee or tea: “Yes plea… what the hell happened to your nose?”

“Training. Tea or coffee?”

“Tea. It was Wilson right?”

“Ding ding ding. Jackpot.”

Dick sighed, he crossed his arms on his chest and eyed Jason a moment. His younger brother was looking through his pantry for some tea and sugar. He turned to Dick with an exasperated sigh. They could do the silent treatment until one of them broke but it would last the entire day and frankly Jason was so not in the mood.

“What?”

“Did you at least set your nose back?”

“Yes. I mean Slade probably did it when I was unconscious.”

_Ah, fuck._

“When you were unconscious?” Dick asked with a cold smile.

“It was training. You knock me out all the time, Dick.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” Jason snapped.

“Well, I’m not a criminal mastermind that tried to kill you a month ago with a grudge against your family, for once.”

“Fair enough,” Jason conceded.

“Just be careful alright?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. You can still call it off. We can work together against Black Mask.”

“I’m already in and he said he’ll send me on a mission.”

“You don’t really believe Sionis trusts you that easily, or are you really that dumb?” Dick attacked. Only to regret it a minute after. “Sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like I don’t know that myself.” He saw Dick’s face crumbling. “Sionis doesn’t trust me, yet. I’ll prove myself and I’ll get what I want.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I don’t know, a few months, not more than a year.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You told Bruce his methods were going to take too long, and you’re telling me you’ll stay undercover for ayear!”

“I said not more than a year!”

“Jason, just…” Dick sighed. “Be careful okay,” his eyebrows were frowned and lips a fine line. He couldn’t look Jason in the eyes.

“Of course! You know me.”

“Precisely.”

Jason rolled his eyes. He sat on his counter swung his legs and looked down at Dick’s files. H.I.V.E. was starting to stir some shit in the Middle East by the look of it: “I can ask Talia if she knows what’s up.”

Dick looked up “You’d do that?”

“Watching you hitting dead-ends stops being fun pretty quickly… I know you have some history with H.I.V.E, if you can bury this skeleton, I’d be glad to help.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Jason took his phone out and began typing at an impressive speed. He smiled at something and started typing again. Dick watched his baby brother snorting at something he read.

“Hey, Jason.”

“What?” the other said still looking at his phone.

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“Thanks, Dick. You don’t have to lie though.”

“I’m not ly…” Dick saw the small smile playing at Jason’s lips. The brat was mocking him. “Idiot.”

“Thought I was smart.”

“Changed my mind.”

They drank slowly their teas, Jason was scribbling in some journal, scratching some lines and doodling in the corner of the page. He sighed and watched Dick scratching the chin of the black cat sitting on the counter. He snorted, realized, and looked back at his brother: “You opened the window,” it wasn’t a question, more like an accusation.

“She was scratching at the window and meowing,” Dick said sheepishly.

“They all scratch, they want food! Dick, I told you not to let them in when you come here.”

“Sorry, but Donka is so fluffy, I can never shoo her away,” Dick smiled softly.

“You named the cat!”

“As if you didn’t!”

“I feed them, I name them.”

“Whatever, this one is Donka. You don’t deserve such a good girl.”

“I deserve any cat I want for putting up with you.”

“Wait until I tell Damian you don’t let them in. He’ll never leave your flat.”

“You’re a pain.”

“Your favorite pain.”

Jason didn’t dignify Dick with an answer and went back to writing in his notebook. He heard the soft purr of the cat as Dick petted her.

“What did you name her anyway?” Dick asked.

“Uhura…” Jason mumbled.

“You’re such a nerd.” Dick scoffed.

Dick stayed the day, they watched silly videos and talked about their different cases. Dick was also keeping an eye on the young boy disappearance but he already had H.I.V.E to watch so Jason offered to help, missing children were a soft spot for the vigilante. Dick ate Jason’s falafels and dipped them in too much spicy sauce under Jason’s wary eye.

The older brother left for patrol after changing. He jumped off the balcony as Jason smoked his third cigarette of the day. He observed Nightwing jumping gracefully from one roof to the other fighting back the jealousy. He knew Dick’s skills and that he could never measure to him. However, Jason was aware of how much Dick worked to achieve those skills and admired how he managed to keep his work as a police officer at the same time. Dick seemed to always push his limits even if it could kill him. Jason sighed, he knew his brother, he knew he went through some shit and never talked to anyone. Dick was good at listening but couldn’t talk about his own problems for shit. Jason knew it would come back and bite his brother in the ass, and at that time he would be here. He swore he would.

* * *

Jason pushed his body back from the railing and left his flat. He had to go to his club and give Talia a call. He stepped in the building through the hidden entrance and walked in the bar. Jason was certainly not expecting Slade Wilson to be sitting at the counter listening to Chris speaking and moving his hands mimicking an explosion. Maddie was completely engrossed in the tale and didn’t notice him sliding next to her: “Having fun?”

“Shit.”

Slade turned to him and brought his glass to his lips. Chris looked at the ground and Maddie flew off probably to go back to work.

“Lots of.”

“What do you want, Wilson? Break my nose again?”

“I shot you and you’re angry over a broken nose. You broke mine too if I recall correctly.”

“My face is ugly enough as it is, I’d love to keep it that way.”

“Dumbass,” Slade rolled his eye.

“Just answer the question.”

“Sionis called. We are leaving tomorrow for Star City.”

Jason eyed him. He wanted to talk but he needed to reach Talia for Dick and Slade would probably still be here after the call. He tapped his finger on the wooden bar and trying to fight back his curiosity.

“I need to do something first, we’ll take later.”

“Take your time.”

“Oh, by the way, how did you know I was coming tonight?”

“I didn’t. I was planning to call you.”

“You don’t have my…” Jason stopped when he saw Slade’s wolfish smile. Bastard.

* * *

Talia never answered her calls. She let someone call her three times then waited for ten minutes, another call, and then she would call back. Jason waited in front of his computer securing the line one more time and counted up to six hundred seconds and called back. He was tapping his fingers on his desk when the smartphone buzzed to life: “Hello Talia.”

“Jason, son, why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to know what you were up to nowadays,” Jason smiled.

“Like I would believe that. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, it’s for Dick. He is working on a case about H.I.V.E and I wanted to know if you were aware of what they were doing.”

Talia sighed: “I was worried you’d hear about it. We are dealing with them tell Grayson to mind his own business.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing too important. They were trying to do some exchange with one of our enemy, Father asked me to deal with it.” She paused and talked to someone. “Don’t worry Jason. How is Gotham treating you?”

“You know, same old shit. I talked to Damian at the manor, he seems well.”

“You were at the manor?”

_Shit._

“Yeah, I had some trouble with Deathstroke, I needed to heal,” Jason confessed not daring to lie to the Demon’s daughter.

“You were hurt!”

“No need to worry, T. I got better, it was nothing but a scratch. Anyway, I talked to Damian and he called me…” Jason hesitated, maybe he getting ahead of himself.

“He called you Akhi.” She hummed allowing Jason to change the subject. “Yes, he used to call you that back in the League.”

Jason exhaled sharply: “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Before the pit, Damian used to stay with us. He took quite the liking to you, always clinging and babbling to you. It was, dare I say, cute.”

Jason didn’t answer right away. He tried to imagine a tiny Damian glued to his leg and smiled. He shook his head.

“I…huh… but he doesn’t seem to remember though.”

“You grew up and changed a lot after the pit, Jason, and he was around six at the time,” she chuckled.

“I don’t remember it either.”

“I assume it’s quite normal. You weren’t exactly yourself.”

Jason ran a hand over his face. He wasn’t expecting that kind of revelation. Was he supposed to tell Damian? The kid didn’t have any nice memories about the League maybe he should keep it to himself, and he didn’t really like Jason, he probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. He remained silent for too long.

“Everything’s alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just…nothing. Thanks for the update, T.”

“It was my pleasure. Goodbye son, say hello to Damian on my behalf.”

“Of course, goodbye Ummi,” Jason said as fast as possible. He only heard a small and warm chuckle.

“Good dreams Ibn.”

Jason waited until the warmth on his cheeks disappeared to go back to Slade. Talia's motherly love was something he had not been expecting but she provided anyway. He secretly loved it and but tried to hide at much as possible. Bruce would probably be angry if he knew one of his…wards was so close to a League member.

* * *

Slade was still at the counter when Jason came back, he was chewing a snack Chris had provided. Jason eyed the barista suspiciously, they knew each other since childhood and Chris had a loose tongue maybe he had said some stuff to Slade, he would have to ask him. The merc slid the crisps bowl to Jason, there was a mischievous spark in his eyes. Chris had definitely said something embarrassing. Jason bent over the bar, took a bottle and a glass. He filled the glass and emptied it in a less than a minute, the burn down his throat was welcomed: “So, what’s happening?”

“You sure you want to talk here?” Slade said obviously talking about Chris.

“I trust my employees, you should too.”

“Whatever you say. We need to watch a delivery tomorrow night, the bow maniacs are watching closely the docks, we need to be ready. We are leaving in the morning.”

“Anything I should know? Do you have a blueprint of the docks that I can study? Do we know their patrol schedules?”

“Kid relax, you’re working with me not an amateur. I’ll tell you everything on time.”

“You want me to go blind?”

“Black Mask doesn’t trust you with this kind of information yet,” Slade smiled.

Jason huffed: “Anything else?”

“Pack something waterproof, they are forecasting some rain in Star City,” Slade emptied his drink and stood up. “Chris, a pleasure. See you tomorrow, Todd.”

Jason turned his head slowly and glared at Chris. The man was scrubbing the counter with great focus. Jason watched him for three long minutes and drank slowly his second glass. Chris tried to ignore the heavy stare. He was replacing the bottles when he finally snapped: “What?”

“What did you tell him?”

“Huh…nothing?”

“Really?” Jason resumed his tapping against the glass.

“We might have talked about Felix.”

Jason stopped breathing. Felix was a sore spot. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, Chris was watching him warily, he looked sorry: “What did you say?”

“Nothing much, he wanted to know about your childhood. I told him that we were friends since we were toddlers and…”

“And?”

“And that we were crime alley’s worse nightmare in our youth. I told him that we were always up to no good with Felix and stuff, you know.”

“Nothing more?”

Chris smiled: “No, I didn’t tell him about your massive crush on Felix. Your secret is safe.”

“I did not have a… Fuck you, Chris.”

“Love you too.”

“Anyway, how long was he here?”

“Two? Three hours? He said he liked it here. Since you brought him last time I thought it was okay if he stayed.”

“Yeah, it’s alright? Just don’t go telling about me anymore.”

“Only if you’re careful in Star City.”

“Careful, I might think you care.”

“Idiot.”

* * *

Jason headed straight to the cave to talk to Bruce. He had to warn him about Black Mask's new delivery and the fact that he was now using Star City. When he walked in the manor’s basement only Alfred was there. Everybody was out looking for the missing kid or on patrol. Alfred was restocking the first aid kit and cleaning the med bay. Jason helped him in silence, they could only hear the wind howling down the cave. Alfred finally sat. He looked tired, no, exhausted. Jason kneeled next to Alfred’s chair, he took his hand and put his cheek against it. Alfred smiled softly. Jason’s cold fingers against his were a small comfort. The boy gave him a cheeky smile: “You should sleep more. Take some vacations, even.”

“Who would take care of you?”

“We can manage a few weeks without you Alf’, you should take care of yourself.”

Alfred curled his fingers against the boy’s face. He brushed the black curls and took his hand back: “I’ll think about it…” He tried to stand up but Jason stopped him. “Are you hungry? I could fix up something for us. The others won’t be back before long.”

“’m not hungry. Stay?”

Alfred smiled. He played with Jason’s hair. He had missed him, dearly. The boy had been a literal ray of sunshine when he stepped in the manor for the first time, always smiling, excited over nothing, helping in the kitchen, kissing goodbye. Even Master Bruce had laughed more often. Alfred stopped running his fingers, he had felt a scar, on thick scar running under his fingers’ pulp. What made him stop was the small noise Jason made. The boy’s entire body language had changed in a matter of seconds: “Master Jason, I’m…”

“It’s fine Alfred, not used to this one being touched.”

They stayed still and finally Jason started to relax: “Alf’ I lied. I’m kinda hungry.”

Alfred stood quickly. Jason wasn’t one with a big appetite, the butler had noticed it back in the day. The boy never ate all his plate even if he did eat rather quickly as if someone was going to steal the food. When Alfred noticed how little the young boy ate, he fixed all sorts of snacks throughout the day so that Jason could always eat enough and when the kid did ask for something Alfred always provided with a warm smile and words of encouragement.

The young man followed him through the manor like a little duckling, Alfred tried not to enjoy it too much. Jason watched Alfred moving through the kitchen after he had been shooed, the old man didn’t need any help thank you very much. The sight of the butler cooking had always been relaxing to Jason. Alfred was precise, neat, and orderly: “I really miss your cooking, Alfie.”

“You could stay? Never miss it anymore,” Alfred would later blame it on the fatigue, had he been more awake he would have never said that. Jason wasn’t ready for it.

“It’s not because I spent two weeks here without causing a fight that it means I can stay, Al. I can’t do that, you know it. I don’t belong here anymore.”

Alfred stopped cutting the tomatoes and squeezed the knife he was holding, it was difficult to hear: “Master Jason, we miss you, terribly so…”

“I’ll stop you here, Alfred. I love you, I care about the others. But I’m not part of this family anymore, they don’t trust me, Bruce doesn’t trust me. I’m not the boy you knew, and Bruce he only remembers what he wants to. I can’t compete against the Jason Todd of your memories, not now, not ever. I changed, I went through a lot. I’m a mess, I’m a mess of scars, traumas, and terrible coping mechanisms. You don’t want to have me here. You want to have thirteen-year-old Jason Todd back. He is dead. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

“It’s not true,” was Alfred’s poor comeback.

“Hey, it doesn’t mean I’m not ever coming to see you. I care about you, deeply. I’ll come over and eat with all of you. It’s just… I’m not Bruce’s son. When Bruce…when Batman couldn’t save me he lost his son. I don’t blame him, no-one could have saved me, I couldn’t even save myself,” Jason murmured.

“Is that what you think happened?” Bruce’s voice thundered behind Jason who almost snapped his neck to look at him.

“How much did you hear?” Jason panicked at the mere sight of the impressive man.

“Jason, do you really think you are not part of our family?”

“My old uniform is still in the cave in that fucking glass case. What do you think, Bruce?” Okay, this came a lot harsher than Jason meant to be. He regretted it almost as soon as he said it, mainly because Alfred looked as if he had his heart ripped from his chest. As for Bruce, well, he probably had seen better days. “I became your cautionary tale, the dead Robin no-one wants to be. The angry Robin. I never was that you know it. All three of us know it. And Dick would know it had he bothered to be a real brother to me like he is with the others.”

He felt a tear roll on his cheek. He felt it deep down, gut-twisting, acidic: jealousy. This was all it was about. He was jealous he had to sleep in a guest room when he came to the manor. He was jealous Bruce wouldn’t touch him as freely he did the others, he was jealous Dick spent more time with the rest of the family than him. He was jealous they could eat Alfred’s food when they wanted. He was jealous no-one told him they had a cat now and had to find out when he came one day. He was jealous that not one of the photographs he took with Bruce was on sight. He sobbed, the reality check was violent.

Bruce stood by the door, hands squeezed in tight fists. He took the cowl off, threw it on the table and grabbed Jason’s shoulders, he pulled the young man in his arms: “I should have done that years ago,” Bruce whispered.

Jason held his in front of him trying to stop the hug with his forearms but Bruce had the strongest will. Jason hiccuped in the man's shoulder, he was standing still, arms now uselessly hanging by his sides. Bruce’s arms were around his waist and shoulders, on hand cupping the back of the boy’s head: “I’m so sorry I’m not him. ImnotImnotImnot…”

“Shhh,” Bruce whispered.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough…”

“Jason, you’re everything I could have wished for, and even more.”

“STOP LYING,” Jason snarled against Bruce. “Please stop lying, I know I’m not what you wanted. I can’t be him anymore, I’m not Robin, I’m not the kid you found in Crime Alley. He died, Joker killed him, I killed him,” Jason whimpered.

“That boy, Jason, I grieved him. I know you can’t be the same, I know it. If you could just believe me when I tell you I only see yo…”

“You don’t,” Jason interrupted. “You don’t, you didn’t, I’m a mess, I can’t pick up the pieces of myself, how could you do it?” the boy cried.

“I am your father after all, how could I not?” Bruce said softly in the boy’s ear, he felt every muscle in Jason’s body freezing.

“I don’t deserve it. Your forgiveness, your…love. I don’t deserve them.”

“Jason, I failed you when I couldn’t save you. I failed that boy, I failed Robin, I failed the man you became. I am the one who doesn’t deserve your affection. Your trust. You’re my son, from the day you were born till the end.”

“I died before, I think it pretty much relieved you from your duty, Bruce.”

“I am a stubborn man.”

They stayed in each other arms, Bruce was rocking Jason against him, hand still in the boy’s hair, caressing the curls. Jason was sobbing quietly against his father, now grasping at his body armor, almost begging Bruce to not let him go. Bruce tightened his grip on his son. Alfred who witnessed the scene was leaning against the counter, hands over his mouth trying to keep away the small cry to escape his lips. Bruce looked at him and finally, Alfred stepped forwards, he grabbed Jason’s shoulder, pushed on his toes —the boy was so tall he thought to himself in awe— and kissed his grandson’s forehead.

“Don’t tell Dick I said that. Don’t tell him he wasn’t a big brother. It would hurt him. He had his own issues with you, and I took Robin from him and he told me I could keep it. He gave me his blessings,” Jason whispered.

“Jason, you’re babbling.”

“Sorry, it’s just… I know he is trying. I don’t want him to think I still resent him.”

“He knows,” was Bruce's only answer.

At some point Jason excused himself, he needed to wash his face and take some time to cool down. He stepped out of the kitchen to find a Red Robin standing against one of the walls outside of the room Jason had just left. The teenager had ripped his domino off his face and was biting his lips. He had this deer-in-the-headlights look and what was unmistakably guilt painted all over his face. Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and finally opened them again. Tim was waiting, fidgeting. Jason cocked his head and smiled, he ruffled the boy’s hair: “You should go in, Alfred is making midnight sandwiches.”

“I…huh…Jason! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, it was rude.”

“I get it, eavesdropping, and stuff I get it. You have the right to be curious, Timbers. You don’t know what happened between all of us, I can’t blame you for seeking answers. Just, don’t tell Dick, alright?” Jason’s eyes were locked on Tim. The boy couldn’t move, he knew Bruce’s intensity, even Dick had his own, but Jason it was different, the man’s gaze was piercing and made Tim’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. 

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I think I can trust the promise of the nine-year-old who found out Batman’s identity and kept it for himself,” Jason smiled. Tim froze.

“How do you… I didn’t think you’d know that,” Tim finally said.

“I’m listening when people talk, you weren’t the only one to be raised by The Detective,” Jason laughed when he mimicked Ra’s Al Ghul’s voice.

“It’s…I think I’ll go eat some sandwiches then,” the teenager answered awkwardly.

“Leave some for me, alright?”

“Don’t take too long in the bathroom, and you might find a couple when you get back.”

Timothy wasn’t the only one in the kitchen when Jason came back. Damian was munching on some bread and Dick was trying to help Alfred. Stephanie was stuffing her face as Cassandra stood watching her with a small smile. Duke sat next to Bruce talking and biting his sandwich alternately. He sat on Duke’s left and grabbed a snack. Jason still needed to talk to Bruce, but now he would wait and enjoy this peace while it lasted. He still felt it, that pang of jealousy, the tiring feeling of not being enough, but he would strangle this feeling and bury it deep down at least for tonight’s sake. For the family’s smile, he would act as if he was part of it and smile with them. He would drown his insecurities in the warm feeling setting deep down in his guts. He would allow them to love him tonight, he would let them be stained by his wicked tint. Just for tonight, he promised breaking his heart.

* * *

Slade —that asshole— broke in his apartment at five in the morning. Jason was awake, he didn't sleep at night, never could. It wasn’t safe in the Alley at night, and when he became Robin he was always so excited to help Bruce that he often didn’t find sleep when he went back from patrol and it was the only moment he could do his homework. After the whole digging himself out of his grave thing, he had trouble sleeping in the dark. Not that anyone knew. Not that he let anyone know. He’d sleep in the plane anyway. Still, didn’t take away the fact that Slade Assholinator broke in his flat and helped himself in Jason’s cupboard. He whistled: “Kid you got more food in there than a whole army regiment.”

“Fuck off, don’t touch my food,” Jason barked from the couch.

“Didn’t eat this morning.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“Little shit.”

Slade turned to give the boy an annoyed look when he noticed his puffy red-rimmed eyes. It could have been fatigue, he understood the kid didn’t sleep that much during his surveillance. But he knew it was because Jason cried, he heard the small sniffle sound that the boy tried to hide: “So, whose horse is dead?”

“Fuck off!” Jason threw his cushion at the man.

“How about you stop throwing a tantrum and pack your bag.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum, you barged into my flat.”

“So what? You did too.”

“Oh? So I get to shoot you too since you shot me?” Jason asked with fake innocence.

“You can try.”

Jason grumbled, he left the living room and came back with a semi-full bag. He grabbed some food and stashed it in his bag under Slade’s critical stare. Jason ignored the tall man in his kitchen navigating around him, slapping his hands when they were getting too close to the food he kept on his counter: “Do I need to pack some gear?

“What did you think we were going to do? Take selfies around the city?”

“I was just wondering whether Sionis had prepared something for us when we get there.”

“We have some stuff waiting for us, like a car when we step out of the plane or a safe-house.”

“What do you mean a safe-house? We're sleeping there?”

“I told you they were forecasting some rain. It’s more likely to be a storm.”

“Fuck.”

“Afraid to share a room with me?” Slade taunted.

Jason snorted and smiled dangerously: “Look at you, old man. Getting all excited. Try not to drool on me.”

“And this is coming from the man who harassed me to train him,” Slade stated finally grabbing a chocolate bar.

“I did not harass you! I just asked nicely, repeatedly.”

“Harassed,” Slade said a mouth full of chocolate.

“You’re disgusting, and it’s coming from a kid raised in the streets.”

* * *

They stepped in private plane Sionis had gotten ready for them. Jason sat first and it was his mistake, Slade sat in the seat next not to him on the other side of the aisle. Jason knew he would not spend the next four hours sleeping like he wanted to, not with Slade Wilson watching his every move: “It’s funny,” Slade said.

Jason stayed silent, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. He was going to watch his movie without talking to Wilson: “Really funny,” Slade kept going. Sure, Jason wanted to know what was funny, because if it was enough to make the Terminator mention it, surely it was interesting in some ways, right? However, Jason was completely focused on his movie. Or at least tried to.

“It’s funny because I knew Sionis was loaded, but I didn’t think he would share his private plane with his employees.”

“What do you mean?” Jason said without thinking.

_Damn. Hook, line, and sinker._

“Only that if I were alone, I probably would have been in a lesser plane.”

“I don’t get it,” Jason said puzzled.

“I’m merely saying that your neat little seduction trick worked wonders,” Slade smiled. “Sionis is trying to impress you,” and maybe the realization pissed him off. Maybe the fact the Sionis was trying to show his wealth to the young man in a stupid dick contest was bothersome.

“Good thing he doesn’t know I’m the ward of the richest man in Gotham. Money never impressed me and never will, it’s a mean to an end. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s rich coming from the ward of the richest man in Gotham.”

Oh, and Slade saw it. He saw he made a mistake, he said the wrong thing. Truth is, he just wanted to tease the kid, he had fun reactions, Jason always had a snarky come back —a trait he shared with all his brothers. However, this time in the plane, Slade Wilson felt the room dropped thirty degrees, he witnessed as the kid physically clamped back on himself, his easy-going demeanor now a vague memory. As if it wasn’t enough, Slade could see the kid’s jaw tightening under his skin. He really did step on a landmine: “I know how lucky I am to have Bruce, Wilson. But you don’t know shit about me, so stay in your fucking line,” Jason said through gritted teeth.

It was true. Jason Todd was a ghost of the past and trying to find something on him was difficult. Slade knew the boy was an orphan, born and raised in Gotham. Nothing more, of course, what happened to Willis Todd was in the newspapers but his wife and kid’s story was not as easy to find. One day Jason lost his father and years later he was adopted by Bruce Wayne. An entire pan of his life had vanished and he kept it a secret, heavily guarded. He lost his father, clearly his mother too, he was adopted, he died, and came back. One hell of a story but parts were missing, obviously important parts. He did always call himself a street rat in the most deprecating way, maybe he did live in the streets. How long? How old was he when his mother died? What happened before Bruce Wayne took the boy in? How the hell did a Crime Alley orphan meet the heir to the Wayne empire?

Slade was curious but not enough to deal with that shit now. Once everything was settled with Sionis he would go back home and leave the shithole that Gotham was, along with the Bats and one annoying Red Hood.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

“Just, shut the fuck up.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Slade stood up and cornered the boy in his seat. He put a hand next to Jason’s face and sneered: “Kid you don’t want to piss me off, I’m not your dad, I’m not Grayson. Either you get over yourself, either I knock you out until we get to Star City,” Slade said slowly.

“You’re kidding me, right? You’re the one being an asshole, you came into my flat at five, you insult me and I am the one in the wrong. Fuck you, you patronizing asshole. I have every right to be pissed off, now if you don’t mind I’d like to go back to my movie that you disturbed rudely implying that Sionis wanted my ass. So either you get over yourself and the fact that I’m not any henchman you usually work with, either I knock you out until I deal with whatever bullshit we are supposed to do. Capice?”

“I never said Sionis wanted your ass, just that he was trying to impress you,” Jason gave him an unimpressed look.

“What is it, Slade? Jealous you can’t compete against Bruce and Roman?” Slade's fingers gripped the seat’s leather tightly.

“I don’t know where your confidence comes from because I’d choose any other bat in a heartbeat,” Yes, Slade knew he was playing dirty and lying. He knew that would shut the boy up, resurfacing his jealousy and self-consciousness. And it did shut the boy’s mouth, he kept silent until the end of the flight, teeth bitting harshly the pulp of his bottom lip. Slade had hurt him, he knew it, but a hurt Jason Todd was a silent Jason Todd, too silent but the result was the same. The kid didn’t eat the food they were served for breakfast, he was sulking Slade thought.

Jason played with the fruits they were given, he couldn’t open his mouth because he knew he would let one of the little whimpered he kept hidden in throat since Slade’s harsh one-liner. As if he didn’t know he wasn’t good enough already, even Batman’s rogues were aware. Jason breathed slowly and looked through the window. It was still dark out, only the lights of the cities were shining. Jason tried to go back to his movie but the cruel words were burning in his mind, he had thought Wilson liked him, clearly, he was putting up with him.

They finally stepped off the plane and Jason couldn’t be happier to put some space between Slade and himself. Also, he needed to call Roy and tell him to stay away from the docks tonight, he didn’t want to see his best-friend getting beat up by Deathstroke.

The driver waited for them in front of the private airport, they sat in silence during the entire drive. Jason wanted to talk and ask what they were supposed to do but Slade eyed the road through his window and didn’t acknowledge the boy's presence. Whatever. Jason would wait until they reach the safe-house to call Roy and then he would ask what they were supposed to do.

The massive building exuded the smell of money. The stepped in the private elevator, the heavy silence was starting to get on Jason’s nerves but he would bear with it. If Slade felt guilty for what he said he should be the one talking, and if it didn’t bother him at least he was leaving Jason alone. Once settled in the luxurious safe-house, Jason left with his phone, he had seen a small park next to the building and wanted to get the hell away from Wilson.

Jason sat alone under a big maple tree on a green bench. He sighed, Star City was so much quieter in the morning than Gotham. The people did not honk every second and there were some birds in the parc, he even saw a squirrel climbing a tree. Jason loved Star City, something he wouldn’t admit out loud but he felt at home here, almost as much as in Gotham. But something was missing and was it the smell or the general ambiance of the city, Jason couldn’t picture himself moving out of Gotham to go in Star City. Gotham was in his blood, he was her child. The dark lady birthed him, spat him in her streets, and Jason wasn’t the damned prince of Gotham, no, he was her damned son.

It was eight past half when Jason finally dialed Roy Harper’s number, he heard the distinct click of someone answering around the fifth tone: “How is my favorite Bat in the world?” Roy sang on his side.

“I don’t know, I didn’t see Dick this morning.”

“Dude, you’re no fun.”

“I’m not getting paid to be fun. You’re not even my favorite Harper, to begin with.”

“Low blow, also trying to make me feel jealous of my own daughter? That’s cold, Todd.”

“What can I say, you can’t win against the cutest Harper in the world. How is she, by the way?”

“Still asking whether Uncle Jay is coming soon or not. She adores you,” Roy laughed loudly.

“Suck it, Grayson,” Jason smiled head thrown back.

“Yeah, even the almighty Green Arrow isn’t good enough for her. You only lose to Diana.”

“Can’t blame her, Diana’s my favorite too.”

Roy stayed silent, Jason could hear the gears moving in the archer’s brain: “So, you probably didn’t call me to talk about my daughter’s favorite superhero, did you?”

“Yeah as much as I love to, I wanted to know if you were on patrol tonight?” Jason couldn’t really beat around the bush considering what he was going to ask.

“I think so, Dinah is kinda sick so I cover for her part, why do you ask?”

“How about you take a day off, say that Lian is sick or something and that you want to stay with her at least for tonight, how does that sound?”

“Like you’re trying to put me off duty tonight. Something’s happening? You need me in Gotham?” Roy’s voice was getting worried.

“No! I need you with your daughter. Just don’t come out tonight, alright? Trust me on this one,” Jason panicked.

“How about you tell me what’s going on?” Jason could hear the angry/annoyed tone in Roy’s voice.

“I’ll tell you once I’m done. Just stay with your daughter tonight and I’ll call you tomorrow. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Jason Peter Todd, what the fuck? You’re in Star City? Is this about Sionis? Because we know he is getting a delivery tonight, are you going to set fire to the docks?”

“Roy, please stay home. Do me a favor.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll tell them I can’t tonight and ask someone to cover for me. Jaybird, don’t be careless, okay?”

“You know it’s quickly starting to get annoying, all of you telling me to be careful. I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, jackass, I don’t care what you think, I tell you to be careful because you work with dangerous people and do some insane shit. I trust you to take care of yourself, I just want you to know that I care about you, dumbass.”

“I care about you too, Arse.”

“Idiot.”

* * *

When Jason came back, Slade was in the living room reviewing something on his tablet. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move to show he heard Jason coming inside. His eyes were locked on the screen, his focus unwavering. Jason explored the refrigerator and then the cupboards. He found the glasses over the sink and poured himself some water. Slade was still immobile. Seriously, he was so much like Bruce when he was angry because Jason could feel the anger emanating from Slade’s body, it was coming in waves. Willis did that too. He stood silent over the room and didn’t talk, and if Mom made some noise he would slap her. And then they would scream. For fuck sake, he was a grown-ass adult and one tall angry man was making him lose all his focus: pathetic.

“So, are you calm now?” Slade said breaking the silence. His voice too loud for the still calm of the room.

_Oh, fuck that shit._

“I don’t know, are you going to stop being an asshole every time I talk to you? ‘Cause you know we got work to do, even if you’d rather work with someone else.”

Slade sighed and Jason hated, _hated_ , how anxious that made him feel. He saw Wilson putting his hands on his knees and pushing to stand up. Jason faced his back, he eyed warily the older man. Slade turned to face him, he was annoyed, Jason could see it on his face, read it in his body language, even the little flinch of Wilson’s jaw gave him away. Jason’s hand felt suddenly sweaty, his heartbeat was increasing, his face was heating, and his guts twisting, heck, he could even feel his feet getting sweaty. Slade was walking slowly towards him, and Jason couldn’t stop playing nervously with the glass in his hands: “Put that down, Jason,” Slade ordered.

“Or what?”

“Put that down,” Slade sighed. He was really annoyed at him, Jason could feel it. Seriously, Jason didn’t know if he could bear him screaming at him. Hell, he wasn’t that kid anymore, he wasn’t going to cry because of Slade, because he was afraid of him. Jason didn’t fear, not anymore, he died, he shouldn’t be able to feel fear anymore, right?

“Just say what you want to say, okay? I don’t have all day, Wilson.”

“Alright. I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have assumed things based on the little I know about you. On the other hand, you need to understand that I work alone and baby-sitting isn’t part of my job description. Capice?”

“Yeah, patience isn’t in the job description either.”

“I’m offering a deal, alright? I try to be less of an asshole and you don’t snap at me like you probably do with your family. I won’t put up with your nasty temper just because you get hurt when I snap back. What you think, what you feel don’t matter to me, I don’t care if you hate me by the end of the day. I need the job done, that’s it.”

“You do realize you started the whole situation? You could just apologize and move on. But you don’t do that, you’re the big bag Terminator.”

“You know what? Truce, I won’t apologize, I don’t apologize, let’s agree on a truce. That way neither of us has to say so half-baked apology,” Slade lashed out.

“Fine by me!”

“Fine!”

“Alright!”

“Good!”

“Super!”

“You’re a child.”

“You call me kid all day and you only get that now?”

* * *

Jason saw the sky becoming darker and darker as the day went on. They went to the docks before nightfall and waited for the team to come in. The van was black and stealthy, armed goons stepped off, and Leonard Snatch in all his cold glory too. He strolled towards Slade and shook his hand, Jason stood behind the merc and observed the criminal. Leonard Snatch was usually working in Central City and Jason did not expect to see him in Star. Snart caught a glimpse of his helmet and cocked his head: “Got yourself a trainee, Wilson?”

“You can have him if you want to.”

“Honestly? I think he probably deserves a raise for putting up with you.” Snatch grinned. Jason snorted earning a glare from Slade.

“Quit trash-talking and get to work Captain Cold,” Slade barked.

“Oh, we are using our made-up names, alright Deathstroke,” Leonard mocked, he winked at Jason and went back to the henchmen he came with.

“So, everybody in the business knows you’re an ass?”

“Go suck an egg, Hood.”

Jason had found a cozy spot from where he could see most of the operation. He knew Green Arrow would come tonight since Roy so nicely told him they were aware of the delivery, Jason was just taking a breather until he had to fight one member of the Justice League. Oliver Queen was a great long-range fighter and almost as good in close-range, and since Roy promised to stay at home, Arrow was coming with Connor. This was a fight they could win.

Jason's head was laying against one of the walls of the warehouse when the first arrow sank in the ground in front of Snatch, it exploded with a blinding light and deafening noise. Typical. Jason lunged behind a truck to search for Oliver. Slade had seen him taking cover and joined him. They looked at each other exchanged signs and got ready to run for the almost fully loaded van they had to bring back to the airport. Except that Jason saw one obnoxious red arrow settling between Slade’s and his head. The arrowhead exploded splashing paint all-over their helmets. Jason cursed: “The fuck was that?” Slade said discarding his tainted helmet.

“I’ll handle it,” Jason growled, throwing his helmet to the ground.

He grappled his way to the top of the warehouse where he was sure he would find one red archer. Roy was already up in fight stance. He smiled awkwardly: “I know, but Connor caught Dinah’s cold, and I couldn’t really let Oliver alone on this one. I’m sure you understand.”

“I’m gonna rip you a new one, Arsenal!”

“I knew you would say that.”

It was easy to think that Roy Harper was an idiot. He was for sure a dumb of heart, but his brain could go against Dick’s and probably Tim’s. However, Jason was neither of them, he would have to work with what he had, he knew Roy and how he fought. Solely based on their skills Jason could win, winning easily was a talk for another day, but he was never one for easy fights. He jumped on Roy and tackled him, pushing them off the metallic beam they were settled on. He gripped the other man and used his grapple to slow down their fall. At the same time, Jason caught a glimpse of Slade’s fight against Oliver. Both of them were fast and efficient, deadly. Oliver never backed down, he punched harder every time he got punched.

Roy punched Jason in the jaw while looking sorry at the same time. Jason headbutted him in the nose, keeping the smirk on his face. Roy stumbled backward, he looked up, spat blood, and smiled at Jason. This was going to be fun.

Jason took an uppercut, he slammed the side of his hand against Roy’s temple and then grabbed his hair to smash the other man's head against the wall. Roy put his leg up and kneed Jason’s groin: “That’s cold,” the younger man laughed only to take a fist in the ribs.

Jason elbowed Roy’s in the guts and kicked him in the chin, then grabbed the other man's arm and upper body-armor only to throw him over his head. Roy managed to land on his knees and twist himself so he could run and face Jason easily. Jason’s back hit on the wall in a loud bang, he grunted. Jason hit Roy’s in the stomach on more time with his knee and when the archer bent in half because of the pain, Jason slammed both his hands locked in a large fist over the older man nape. Roy fell down, unconscious.

He turned and heard Slade howling when Oliver smashed his humerus in half with his feet. Slade didn’t stop, he found the strength to still punch the other man in the face, and then kicked him, and punched him one more time. Finally, Slade grabbed Oliver's short hair, securing his hold he crashed the archer’s head against his knee moving up. Jason winced at the scene. Oliver fell like a lifeless puppet. Slade looked at Jason: “We need to move.”

“I thought you would never say it,” Jason grinned.

“You’re driving, I can’t do shit until I heal,” Slade threw the keys for Jason to catch them mid-fly.

“Alright, don’t forget to put your seatbelt on, old man.”

Jason drove out of the warehouse trusting Captain Cold to find another vehicle. He switched off the van’s lights and headed off to the airport. He was going as fast as the fully-loaded van could but something caught up with them. Actually, someone caught up, and the red arrow the stole his left mirror was enough of a clue for the young vigilante. The archers didn’t really do giving up. Slade lunged over Jason’s thighs, opened the window, and shot with his undamaged left arm, it wasn’t enough to deter the hero’s tailing them.

Jason turned the wheel abruptly, Slade’s whole heavy built crushed him. They changed itinerary, they were heading to the city now. Slade grunted when he got back to his seat, he opened his own window and pulled his upper half through it. Roy and Oliver were still behind them but not for long. Jason knew the city, probably not as much as the other vigilantes but he had an advantage, he knew their weaknesses.

Jason accelerated, he was passing every car and honking at the one bothering him. Slade was back in his seat grabbing the handle of the door as he could only watch the other drive them to their death. Jason liked driving and the speed, he loved the feeling of a chase, the blood pumping in his ears, and the exhilarated feeling in his mind, he felt alive.

Jason turned toward the main street and accelerated. He passed the third red lights and slammed the brakes before he engaged in a u-turn. Slade smashed against the door and threw one angry glare at the driver who was smiling like it was Christmas. They were facing Oliver’s car.

Jason made the van roar and his vision tunneled to the two vigilantes also waiting. Jason went full speed and Oliver obliged:“ The fuck are you doing?” Slade growled.

“Trust me.”

“Kid, I’m going to stand up after the impact, you won’t.”

“There will be no such thing,” Jason laughed like a maniac and accelerated again.

Oliver was glaring at him on the other side. They were close, so close, but Jason knew the archer would never go for the impact, he would never let Roy get hurt during patrol anymore. Not now, not when his only son was a father to a wonderful little girl. Jason thanked the gods for Lian. The younger man saw how Oliver panicked and changed his car’s course to avoid the black van coming at them, he relaxed a bit and escaped the scene as fast as possible to go back to the airport.

The moment they parked next to the private plane as if on cue, the wind started to rise, and rain poured down over the van. Slade slipped off the car to talk to the team waiting for them under the downpour. The one who was most likely the leader signed for the other to unload the van and talked with Slade for a few minutes. The mercenary turned his back to the other man and asked Jason to join them with hand movement:“ What?” Jason barked already drenched to the bones.

“They have another car we need to take. We’re moving tomorrow morning, as foreseen we can’t leave right now because of the storm.”

“Alright, something else they need?” Jason screamed because of the wind.

“No, we’re moving right now,” Slade turned back to the other man waiting for them. They changed car and went back to the safe-house. Jason was shivering in the car looking forward to the moment he could get out of his wet clothes.

Once they were in, Jason helped Slade out of his armored suit, his arm was still broken and probably pulled out of the joint. Jason snorted at each grunt of pain. What he didn’t see coming was the blinding white light illuminating Star City’s pitch black sky and the terrible sickish feeling pooling in his guts. No. Not now, not around fucking Deathstroke. He wasn’t going to panic. He had it under control. The thunder rumbled and Jason whimpered.

_Fuck._


End file.
